


Dead Girl Walking and the Demon Queen

by RynWill



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, Hate Sex, Heather Chandler the mythic closet case, Secret Relationship, Some reference to dubious consent but not within the main pairing, Veronica the precious bisexual, frenemies with benefits is a thing right?, kind of unhealthy to begin with but they'll figure it out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-10-23 16:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RynWill/pseuds/RynWill
Summary: Plan A: 'Get laid' has failed. JD has a damn good lock on his window. It's time for Veronica to move onto Plan B: 'Apologise'.What better way is there to say sorry than to hop a fence, climb a tree, and drunkenly break into someone's home? At least Heather has a few ideas.





	1. Break In

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in years and I'm always too lazy to proof read so please forgive slight issues with flow and a few typos/mistakes.
> 
> If you're wondering why it's 29 hours rather than 30 like in the show, this takes place around an hour after when dead girl walking would have taken place.

Veronica was going to die.

In approximately 29 hours, she was going to walk into school on Monday morning and be promptly and publicly murdered by the demon queen of Westerburg High.  In all honesty, she only had herself to blame. Drink too much, party too hard, defy the one girl that has the complete and total power to ruin you. It was bound to end in tragedy.

Note to God: Why, of all people, did she have to puke on Heather Chandler’s shoes?

It was almost like a suicide. She may as well have written a little note and left it on her bedside table.

‘Dear World, I’m an idiot. You will find me crushed beneath the most popular girl at school’s expensive heels. Give my things to goodwill.’

She sighed, drinking the last of her soda and dropping the bottle on the sidewalk. Ordinarily she would have put it in the trash, but after some of the things she’d done the last three weeks with the Heathers, littering was the least of it.

She stopped outside her house. Going straight to bed seemed like a waste of her last hours, and she didn’t much feel like lying awake contemplating her impending doom until the early (or was it late?) hours of the morning. She’d already been wandering for just over an hour. She had even stopped by a 24-hour store to prolong the night, with the added benefit of the aforementioned soda and some red vines. The resulting good mood had lasted only as long as it had taken her to finish them before she was back to wallowing in the misery of a woman condemned.

Veronica was going to die.

She was too young. There was so much she needed to do first. Like go to college. Or get laid. (Not for the first time that night she cursed the annoyingly damn good lock on JD’s bedroom window).

An apology. It was the only way forward.

She would apologise to Heather, do whatever demeaning task she would no doubt ask her to do and go back to being a miserable lap dog. It was better than being an ex-somebody that no-one would play reindeer games with, or whatever. In hindsight, she’d had one too many drinks to make sense of the threat, but it sounded bad.

It was this same alcohol that perhaps made up at least 75% of the reason Veronica was cursing as she struggled to climb the tree outside of Heather Chandler’s window not 20 minutes later. (It just _had_ to be 3 stories high). The other crucial 25% was split between a healthy dose of fear, and a little bit of weed.

Once she reached the window, she saw the room was empty, and it occurred to Veronica that Heather might not have even gotten home yet, if she even intended on coming home at all. The Queen Bee could have been at one of the other Heathers’ houses, or staying with some random hot guy from the football team.

Why was it the flaws in a plan never became apparent until they were already in motion?  

The window swung open quickly when she pulled at it, causing her to lose her balance.

It wasn’t the most elegant of entrances, with her foot caught on the windowsill and her face firmly planted into the bedroom floor. In complete juxtaposition, Heather Chandler chose that exact moment to practically float through door like an ethereal Goddess and Veronica nearly choked on her tongue.

_Her legs go on for days_. It was the first thing she thought when she saw Heather stood there in a scandalously short red robe. Veronica knew she was really drunk when her next thought was how she’d like to touch them. Ridiculously hot or not, she should absolutely not be attracted to pure evil.

“What the ever-loving fuck?”

Heather stood staring at her like Veronica had sprouted another head. She must have only recently gotten home, as her face was just slightly damp like she’d just removed her makeup.

_-Dear Diary, Heather Chandler looks just as insanely hot without makeup. Where do I go to file a complaint?-_

She was holding a hair brush in her hand, brandished above her head like she’d burst into the room expecting to use it as an hilariously ineffective weapon. Veronica couldn’t help but find it the tiniest bit endearing.

She was so definitely drunk.

“You know you really shouldn’t leave that unlocked,” Veronica mumbled earnestly as she clambered to her feet, pointing a thumb back at the window she had just crawled through. “Any creep could just climb in here.”

“You don’t say?” Heather lowers the brush in her hand, relaxing now that she knew her intruder wasn’t some inept burglar. “Well traitor, you’d better have a good reason for being here, or-“

“Or what?” Veronica snorted. “You’ll threaten to ruin me on Monday?”

Heather narrowed her eyes. With a raised brow and hand on hip, she somehow looked like a vicious predator, ready to take her prey.

“You have some brass balls, _Ronnie_.” Heather smirked when Veronica visibly grimaced. She hated that nickname and the evil queen knew it. “So what is it you’re here for? And you’d better make it good, otherwise whatever you thought you might have to endure on Monday will look like a walk in the park compared to the hell you’ll get when I tell everyone you’re some psycho creep who’s fond of break ins.”

“I uh- I came to apologise.” Though the more Veronica thought about it the more this plan seemed like a horrible, horrible idea.

Heather’s laugh was cruel.

“I hope you brought kneepads, bitch.”

Veronica sighed. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Look, I’m really sorry Heather, I was out of line and-“

Heather laughed again. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” There was a malice in her eyes that really shouldn’t have been attractive.

Veronica shook her head, feeling the annoyance rise up in her. She felt like there was something ready to burst from her mouth and her brain hadn’t yet given the okay. She really hoped it wasn’t something stupid.

“Why do you have to be such a Goddamn bitch?”

Oh God. It was like her mouth was in competition with itself to see how quickly it could dig her own grave for her, and she was too drunk to put the shovel down.

Heather’s eyes widened, an almost amused smile tugged at her lips.

“Why not?” The smile broadened into a wicked smirk and Veronica hated that it made her feel a little weak. “Now beg. On your knees. And maybe I’ll _think_ about not completely destroying you.”

Heather stepped into her space, intimidating and beautiful. She was close enough that Veronica could smell her perfume, and the toothpaste she’d used. She tried to summon the mantra she usually used in situations like this, ‘don’t be attracted to evil. Do _NOT_ be attracted to evil’, but her brain seemed to have stopped all useful functioning and instead had her leaning forward.

“You’re evil.” She mumbled - as if half of her mantra had gotten lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth - just before she pressed her lips sloppily to the corner of Heather’s mouth.

It took Veronica exactly five seconds to realise what she'd just done.

Five seconds in which Heather froze.

Five seconds in which Veronica Sawyer single-handedly signed her own death warrant.

Five seconds in which she had managed to commit suicide.

Absolute, total suicide.

Veronica jumped back as if burned, and both girls stared at each other wide eyed and in disbelief. If she could have sunk through the floorboards into non-existence Veronica would have done it. She was actually considering climbing back out the window and throwing herself from it just to avoid everything about her current situation.

She was dead. If she thought she was dead on Monday before, she was so far past dead now that she almost couldn’t remember what living had been like in those precious few moments before she had done the stupidest thing imaginable.

She was going to be ridiculed.

She was going to be a pariah.

She was going to be a laughing-stock.

She was-

She was being kissed by Heather Chandler.

The warmth of the other girl’s lips on hers was as shocking, she assumed, as her own kiss had been to Heather. Of all the directions she had imagined the situation going, it was safe to say this particular direction hadn’t crossed her mind.

Because Heather Chandler was kissing her.

And she was kissing back.

Around 1% of Veronica’s brain was wondering what the hell was going on, but the other 99% was absolutely sure she didn’t want it to stop. Not when Heather was tangling a hand in Veronica’s hair and placing another on her hip to pull her closer. Not when she was biting her lip like that, forcing strangled sounds from Veronica that she was certain to be embarrassed about later. How could she ever want to stop?

Heather’s hands worked at the buttons on Veronica’s blazer without her lips ever ceasing their assault. It dropped to the floor a moment later, yet without the extra layer Veronica felt hotter than she had before she lost it.  

“Heather-“

“Shut up, moron.” Heather murmured sharply against her mouth, before sliding her lips down Veronica’s neck and suddenly Veronica was inclined to agree. No talking. Talking was completely overrated. Teeth grazed her skin, just over her pulse and she was suddenly reminded of likening Heather to a predator. That left Veronica as her all too willing prey.

When those teeth were gone, she had to restrain a whine at the loss of contact. She opened her eyes to see Heather had backed away a step, and was leaning slightly against the foot-board of her bed.   

Her eyes were on fire, her chest heaving. She was eyeing Veronica with an intensity that made the brunette shiver, while toying with the ties on her robe.

Everything was going too fast. Veronica knew it. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel like things weren’t going fast enough.

Maybe it was the last three weeks of training to jump at Heather’s every command.

Maybe it was that she was still ridiculously turned on from her decision to break into JD’s house, and was left so completely unsatisfied when her plan fell apart.

Or maybe it was just that Heather Chandler looked like the personification of sex itself.

 “You said you wanted to apologise, didn’t you?”

Veronica could only nod helplessly. She felt captivated, as if nothing in that moment could have made her take her gaze from the gorgeous blonde in front of her. Heather leered like she already knew it, and began untying her robe in the most torturously slow fashion.

“Well, I’m still waiting for you to beg.”

The robe fell open, revealing red lace underwear and an expanse of pale skin just begging to be touched.

Veronica needed to rethink her mantra, because _God_ was she attracted to evil.

Evil looked divine.

And when Veronica sank to her knees, tugging red lace down those long legs, she wondered if this counted as a religious experience. Or at the very least, if she was about to worship the devil herself.

 

* * *

_  
-Dear Diary, I may have just lost my virginity to a being summoned from hell._

_And it was beautiful.-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, if people really wanted smut but it isn't really my thing. I tend to allude to things rather than go into any explicit detail. Hope you have a good imagination.
> 
> I was planning to add more chapters to this, potentially of the aftermath and maybe other bits and pieces in the same universe if people are interested. Still, inspiration is a fickle bitch so I can't make any promises.


	2. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath. Veronica is a mess. Heather is ultra possessive. And Betty exists.

Veronica couldn’t think of a time she had approached a Monday morning with the kind of trepidation she felt now.  No first day of school could come close. No doctor’s appointment. No trip to the dentist. No single day had been treated with the same intense dread and confusion.

Her entire Sunday had been consumed with a single thought:

_I had sex with Heather Chandler._

The very concept seemed alien and truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t dreamed it. But what a dream it was. Every time she thought about it her initial confusion – because really, how the hell it had even happened she still wasn’t sure – would give way to a feeling altogether more inappropriate for the dinner table.

It was all consuming.

Her dad asked her to pass the juice and she thought about the feel of Heather’s skin, and how her naked body looked draped in only moonlight. Her mom asked her about her friends and she thought of the deliciously indecent sounds Heather made with her hand gripped tightly in Veronica’s hair.

And she really couldn’t repeat the obscene thoughts that came to mind when her parents asked her how she was enjoying her food.

Her brain was near meltdown. How had she managed to go from setting out to lose her virginity to JD, to instead ending up on her knees in front of Heather Chandler? And how was she supposed to handle the girl who threatened to ruin her life being all she could think about?

And then there were Heather’s farewell words to consider too.

“You’re still dead to me,” she had called out romantically as Veronica awkwardly made her way back out the window. Boy did Heather sure know how to make a girl feel special. In hindsight however, the words hadn’t seemed nearly as vicious as they could have been, so that was something at least. Maybe.

She spent a whole Sunday freaking out about the whole situation, and by the time she arrived at school on Monday morning Veronica was still no closer to processing it all.

Though once she actually got inside, she quickly remembered she had other things to worry about too.

The hallways seemed more dangerous than they ever had. True to Heather’s words, it was far worse being an ex-somebody than a nobody. At least as a nobody she had been invisible. Now everyone was staring and whispering, or laughing and making gross mock vomit noises that were sure to haunt her for weeks to come. She supposed it had been too much to hope that everyone would have been too drunk to remember the whole thing.

“Oh look, if it isn’t the up-chuck queen.”

Veronica cringed. She’d known this particular confrontation was inevitable. She’d just been determined to at least make it through her first few classes before having to deal with it. But apparently, someone upstairs hated her, and loved to watch her suffer.

Turning, she saw the Heathers, the hallway crowd parting around them like the Red Sea.

“Shut up, Heather.” Chandler barely spared Duke a glance as she reprimanded her. Her piercing eyes were focused solely on Veronica. The hallway had fallen silent, everyone was waiting excitedly for the drama to unfold.

“So Veronica, how’s your first day back with the geek squad?”

Heather spoke with all the confidence of someone in complete control, which was rich considering how many times she had moaned out Veronica’s name just a few nights before. Still, she had been pretty controlling in even those moments, so Veronica supposed her confidence was fair and oh God how had her brain managed to wander back into this topic within a minute of seeing the blonde?

The Heathers were staring at her. Everyone was staring at her. It took Veronica a moment to realise she was supposed to answer.

“It’s _very_.”

“Glad to hear it. I was wondering how you would handle being the laughing stock of the whole school.” She grinned cruelly, placing a hand on her hip. Veronica’s cursed at the way her eyes followed it immediately. Heather must have noticed too, because she quickly retracted the hand in what looked, for the briefest of moments, like panic. She regained her composure so quickly however Veronica wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined the slip up in the first place.

“Enjoy loserdom Veronica. It suits you.”

And with that, she was gone in a flash of hellfire, or however it was demons travelled these days. It wasn’t often Veronica wished people dead, but in that moment, she couldn’t help but feel like Westerburg High might just be a better place without Heather Chandler there to rule it.

Was it stupid to feel used? Because she did. Used and angry. And a little bit turned on.

_Dear Diary, my two default moods around Heather are scared and horny. Which maybe wouldn’t be so confusing if I didn’t always feel them simultaneously._

Once she remembered where she was she glanced round at those still staring. Some were barely repressing laughter at her expense. Others looked a little impressed that she had now suffered through 2 altercations with the almighty herself and lived to tell about it.

Then she spotted Martha shuffling awkwardly towards her.  She stopped and gave a shy little wave, cringing slightly under the weight of all the staring around her. Veronica couldn’t quite stop herself from hugging her there and then.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

They smiled at each other, and it felt a little like coming home. She’d barely seen her friend for weeks – the party from hell not withstanding - and she was busy feeling like an idiot for having effectively ditched her in the first place when suddenly another pair of arms wrapped around them both.

“Sorry.” Betty smiled sheepishly as she released them. “I saw a group hug opportunity and I had to take it.”

They laughed, and for a brief and beautiful moment, they all existed in a world of just the three of them. And it was nice. There were no Heathers. No asshole jocks. Just three old friends.

Then reality set in.

Pig snorts and oinking joined the mock retching, and they were only saved from ridicule when the bell finally rang.

Veronica had never been so grateful to hear it.

Throughout the day, classes felt like they passed by quite quickly. Veronica’s mind was still occupied. In every class they shared, Heather made every effort to avoid even glancing in Veronica’s direction, and on the one occasion their eyes did meet as they passed in the hallway, Heather made a point of leaning into Kurt as he walked beside her and laughing at whatever no doubt _hilarious_ joke he had just told.

She was almost acting as if the whole thing that night hadn’t been entirely initiated by her. Sure, Veronica had kissed her first, but Heather was the one doing the sexy de-robing, and the sultry voice, and the “beg for me.” Really, Veronica was just an innocent bystander.

At lunch Veronica almost accidentally went to sit with the Heathers on instinct, before she locked eyes with Chandler once again and quickly diverted course. She wondered how long it would be before she could look at the girl again without thinking about her naked.

It was going to be a long year.

She stared at the floor the rest of the way to her table, and only forced herself to stop when she heard someone call her name, whirling round to see JD lounging back in his chair with his boots propped up against another.

“I heard you’re officially free of the clone army. Congratulations are in order.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she chuckled awkwardly. “Though I’m still not sure if I should celebrate, or pack my bags and transfer schools.”

“Believe me, transferring schools isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He said it in that cool, casual kind of way he did everything, but Veronica could tell it probably stung more than he let on. “Although, the red Heather does look pretty pissed.”

He nodded his head in the direction of the Heathers’ table, where Veronica was surprised to see Heather Chandler staring them both down like she was trying to set them on fire with her eyes. It was unsettling, as Veronica wouldn’t have been entirely shocked if that was within her skill set.

“Yeah, she… she always looks like that.” She brushed it off, though she couldn’t help but wonder why Heather was suddenly so interested in what she was doing when she’d spent most of the day ignoring her existence.

“If you say so.”

Veronica nodded absentmindedly, unwilling to break the weird connection going on between her and Heather across the cafeteria. It only ended when JD spoke again and Veronica realised he would probably start to be annoyed if he ended up having to talk to the back of her head.

She looked back at him, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“So if we’re ruling out transferring schools, we should stick to celebration.” He tipped his head in a faux chivalric manner. “Maybe we’ll share another Slushie some time.”

It was odd, the strange twinge of guilt that twisted Veronica’s stomach at his words. Automatically her gaze was drawn back over to Heather. All she could see now was the back of the blonde’s head as she stared determinedly at her food, and Veronica felt stupid for the thought even crossing her mind.

 “Yeah, that would be great.” She barely restrained shooting him some finger guns as she walked away. She counted the fact that she hadn’t as a plus one in the restraint column. She was already down in that area by a couple thousand after Saturday night, so she needed to make some back where she could.

Martha and Betty were desperate to know everything about the interaction once she sat down. Betty watched him dreamily and sighed when he noticed and nodded coolly in her direction.

“You’re so lucky Veronica. I’d give anything for a guy like that to be interested in me.”

“I don’t know. Something about him seems a little off.” Martha shook her head, before her eyes lit up in panic. “It’s probably nothing though! I’m sure he’s really nice. I’m just being silly.” 

“I guess he does give off the whole bad boy vibe, but he seems cool.” Veronica mumbled through her food. The Heathers would have lambasted her for speaking with her mouth full.

“You never know.” Betty continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “He might even end up being your first.”

Veronica choked. She hoped, as she took several large gulps of her drink that it was discreet, but she could feel that her face was probably around three shades redder than it had been a moment ago.

“Sorry.” Betty added gingerly, obviously mistaking embarrassment for discomfort. “I just get a little excited about this stuff. It’s like I’m living vicariously through you.”

Veronica wondered if she’d feel the same if she knew who her actual first had been.

“I uh- I think I need to use the bathroom.”

Veronica didn’t think she’d ever made an exit so quickly. Once she entered the restroom she headed straight to the sink to splash cool water in her face. She received a bizarre look from the girl washing her hands a few basins over.

Veronica was staring in the mirror, watching the water dry on her face and taking some of the red in her cheeks with it when the bathroom door was slammed open.

Heather Chandler - _of course_ \- stood there in all her glory. Tight red blazer, painfully short skirt, knee high socks. It was a combination that as always was equal parts intimidating as it was aggressively hot.

Her eyes narrowed at the girl who was now drying her hands.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

She startled and ran. The door to the only occupied cubicle opened in the same moment, and the redhead that exited it took one look at the expression on Heather’s face before darting out the room as well.

There were a few torturous seconds of silence in which Heather simply stared. She looked almost furious.

Then she began closing in.

Each step she took Veronica backed up a little more until her back hit the far wall.

Predator.

Prey.

There was no time to think before Heather was pressed against her and her lips descended on Veronica’s, hard and desperate. Veronica released a sigh she hadn’t known she’d been holding and her arms wrapped around the taller girl as if she had been waiting for this since she had left that night.  

Her lips parted and Heather licked into her mouth possessively. Veronica couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her, whispered against Heather’s tongue like an ill-kept secret. Heather responded by pushing her harder into cool tile of the wall, leaving no space between them where their bodies weren’t pressed together.

A knee slipped between Veronica’s legs, and when Heather’s fingers began to run the length of her thigh, she pushed her skirt up slightly with it.

It occurred to Veronica, somewhere in the distant recesses of her logical mind that she should put a stop to whatever it was that was going on. She didn’t even like Heather. Heather didn’t even like her. This was all going too fast _again_.

Not to mention that they were in a school bathroom. Everything about it was dangerous.

And yet, Heather’s hand crept ever so slightly higher under her skirt, and the logical part of Veronica’s brain was nowhere to be found. It was currently vacationing in the land of who the fuck cares.

Just as Veronica felt the slightest hint of pressure where she needed it most, the bell rang, and Heather jumped away from her like she’d been electrocuted.

Her breaths were heavy and for a moment she looked almost shocked.

Then it was like nothing had happened at all.

 She walked over to the mirror and pulled out her lipstick to fix the damage that had been done. She straightened her blazer. She tightened her red scrunchie. And then she left.

All without sparing Veronica another glance.

The change was so sudden, and so poised, Veronica almost thought she’d been daydreaming. At least, she might have, had it not been for the way Heather’s hands had been shaking the whole time.

When Veronica’s brain kicked into gear again, she groaned. This had to count as minus another thousand in the restraint column.  
  


* * *

_  
-Dear Diary, Heather Chandler is a riddle, wrapped up inside an enigma and some crazy hot clothes.-_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit rushed so the pacing is all over but it's currently midnight and I have to wake up at 3am to catch a plane hahaha...ha.ha.. ha... whoops. So obviously I didn't have time to do a whole lot of editing and there'll be mistakes a plenty but I wanted to get it up before I went away for the week. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for all your comments, they really do put a smile on my face.


	3. Step One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica has a sort of date with JD and a less planned meeting with Heather. She's a hot mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic isn't Jdronica or anything, but JD has a part to play so bear with me (I also like the psycho so sue me). I wasn't really happy with this chapter but my brain is fried so I think this is the best it's gonna get. Sorry. Let me know what you think.

School was slow the whole week. As an ex-Heather of sorts, Veronica was almost back to being a nobody. She didn’t mix with the popular crowd, and people were back to being as rude and obnoxious as ever.

Except now everyone knew her name. They gossiped about the party and how she’d officially been disowned by the most popular clique at school, or they made some _super_ original jokes about her not being able to hold her alcohol.

But she was still beautiful. The Heathers had made sure of that, and if there was one thing she had to applaud the evil trio for, it was their fashion expertise and make-over prowess. Guys still hit on her. Girls were in awe of how she had dared stand up to the girls _no-one_ stood up to. Sure, it had backfired spectacularly, but they respected the attempt none the less.

It was like she was stuck in limbo, a weird place between popular and ostracised that she didn’t know what to make of.

And neither it seemed did the Heathers.

It had been exactly 5 days since what Veronica had taken to calling the ‘ _bathroom incident’_ , and a week since the similarly named ‘ _break in incident’_ had turned her world upside down. (It was easier to call them incidents than to think about what actually happened, because what actually happened was way too confusing for Veronica to handle right now). The whole time since, Heather had barely spared her a glance at school, and when they did meet eyes, it was usually because the Heathers had taken to throwing some snide remark her way in passing.

It was a relief when Friday finally ended. She had a sort of date with JD to think about and no-one, not even some mean blonde temptress with lips as red as the hellfire she no doubt emerged from was going to distract her from it. Said blonde temptress was to remain nameless the whole weekend. Blonde temptress didn’t even exist as far as Veronica was concerned.

She certainly wasn’t going to think about her.

She wasn’t going to scribble angry tirades about her in her diary.

And she absolutely wasn’t going to let her mind wander to the thought of her while she was on her date because that would be beyond rude and-

“Veronica?”

“Huh? What?” Veronica glanced up from the back of the chair she had been absently staring holes into to see JD watching her with a bemused smile.

“You seemed lost in thought.”

Damn it.

“Sorry. I’m here. _So_ here. Totally present.” She stumbled a little over her words. One day, she thought, awkward rambling wouldn’t be her go to when in the presence of hot people. Obviously today was not that day.

“Glad to hear it.” He smiled that sly smile that that made him look effortlessly cool and endlessly amused by Veronica’s fumbling.

For a second she worried he might push to hear what was on her mind. It would have been pretty awkward to explain and she didn’t much feel prepared to come up with a lie on the spot, so she was relieved when he breezed past it like it was nothing.

“Shall we move on?” He asked. His voice had a theatrical quality to it that made everything he said sound like the grandiose proposal. The way he waved a hand dramatically at the door as he spoke didn’t help, but the smirk on his face told her he already knew it. He held his other hand out for her to hold as he led her out the diner and onto the back of his motorbike.

She still wasn’t entirely sure if the whole thing was a real date, or a friend date – she hadn’t exactly been too clear when she’d asked him to hang out - but the motorbike was a blast either way. They hit a pretentious book store, and when the night rolled in, the stars beckoned for a spot of equally pretentious star gazing.

JD of course knew every constellation, but she was pretty sure he made some of them up for her benefit. There was _no way_ the three-legged man was a real one.

When the night was over she watched him leave from her bedroom window. He saluted casually from his motorbike before taking off into the dark and she couldn’t help but think how easy everything could be. There was something between them. He was hot and she liked to think he maybe thought she was too. And they had fun. A solid basis for dating.

Of course, she would have to remove the Heather Chandler sized obstacle in her way first.

Step one: Stop being super gay over Heather.

Easy.

She could do that, she thought confidently. She could totally do that.

 

* * *

 

 Veronica couldn’t really be described as a light sleeper. Even so, it was quite difficult for anyone not to be woken by the unmistakable sound of something smacking none too gently against their window in the middle of the night.

She blinked the sleep from her eyes and groggily moved to pull apart her curtains, the sight greeting her being… not what she expected. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected, but whatever it was, it wasn’t Heather Chandler standing in her garden at – she glanced wearily at her clock - 4 in the morning.

Heather raised her arm and another stone hit Veronica’s window. Veronica opened it hastily to save it from further assault.

“Heather, what the hell are you doing?”

Heather dropped the last stone she was holding, then cocked her hip and raised her brow, looking for all the world like Veronica was stupid for even asking.

“Waiting for you to get your ass in gear and open the damn door. It’s cold.”

Veronica blinked again. “What?”

“Well I’m obviously not climbing up there in these heels,” Heather said motioning at the window with a roll of the eyes, as if the answer was obvious.

“I meant what- ugh never mind. Hold on.” If there was one thing Veronica had learned in her time with the Heathers, it was that there were few exercises more fruitless than trying to argue with Heather Chandler.

She made her way downstairs as quietly as possible to avoid waking her parents and searched for the keys, only to be interrupted a moment later by an annoyed whine of “Veronicaaaaaaa.”

She found the keys on a hook that in hindsight was the same hook the keys were always hanging from, which served as evidence that at least half her brain had yet to wake up. As soon as she opened the door Heather let herself in.

“Freakin’ finally. Did you get lost in your own house?”

Heather turned on her heel and stared Veronica down until she closed the door behind her. She looked gorgeous as ever, in a tight red dress and her long hair let loose from its scrunchie to fall in soft curls that framed her face. But looking closer, it was clear she was a little worse for wear. She swayed on her feet drunkenly, and her lipstick was just slightly smudged.

“Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t more prepared at _4am_.” Veronica snarked. “What are you even doing here?”

Heather smiled. It was nothing short of sinful. “Why don’t you tell me? You’re the expert on late night break-ins here.”

She drew closer, wrapping her arms around Veronica’s neck. So close that Veronica’s breath caught in her throat. Then she turned away, stalking off into the kitchen leaving havoc in her wake. Multiple cupboards were thrown open carelessly and Veronica could only watch, bewildered for a moment before the loud clattering forced her into action.

Heather’s arm was cold under Veronica’s grip as she pulled her away from her task, making the brunette wonder how long she had been outside.

“Where the hell do you keep your alcohol?”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you’ve already had enough.”

“Such a pillowcase.” Heather mocked. “If I was that drunk I wouldn’t have been able to drive here in the first place.”

“You _drove_ here!” It was supposed to be a question, but the alarm in Veronica’s voice made it sound anything but. If there was a Porsche shaped hole in their fence her parents would kill her.

The blonde simply rolled her eyes again and went back to slamming cupboards at an inconsiderately loud volume.

“Would you maybe stop that? You’re going to wake the neighbours.”

Heather paused what she was doing, still bent at the waist as she closed a final cupboard door, and looked back at Veronica with the same sinful smile from before.

“Not yet. But they might have something to complain about later.”

Veronica wasn’t sure if it was the sight of Heather bent over in that tight dress, or the wicked seduction in her eyes that had her wetting her lips and swallowing nervously. Either way she was struggling to get a handle on the sudden pounding of her heart. Her circumstances didn’t improve when Heather moved back into her space, took her by the arm and lead her up the stairs towards her room.

 It was only when her bedroom door closed behind them and she found herself pressed up against it that she finally managed to find her voice again.

“This can’t happen.” It was strained and weak, but there none the less. Heather stroked her thumb over Veronica’s lip absently with a sly smile.

“It seems like you want it to.”

She did. _God,_ she did.

“You’re drunk.”

“Didn’t stop you last time.”

Veronica huffed. “Because _I_ was drunk! I clearly make bad decisions when alcohol is involved.”

Heather’s brow furrowed, and for a moment the briefest flash of hurt was visible. At first, it made Veronica want to take the words back. Then a flicker of annoyance crept through her.

“What are we even doing?”

Heather sighed, pushing away from Veronica to seat herself on the end of the bed with her own annoyed expression. “Not screwing apparently.” Her tone made it clear that she very much thought they should be.

Veronica chose to disregard how adorable she looked angry and pouting. 

“You ignore me at school. And that’s only when you aren’t being a megabitch. But then you kiss me in the bathrooms and come to my house at 4am and what the hell Heather?”

Heather scoffs disgustedly. “I didn’t come to _talk_ ,” she spat the words out like poison, “I came to fuck.”

“Well then I guess you’re shit out of luck.” Veronica said with a newfound wave of confidence. This was her putting her foot down. To Heather Chandler. The almighty.

Her confidence wavered slightly when Heather stood once more, eyes narrowed like she was ready rip Veronica’s throat out with her teeth. “Then you’re fucking useless to me.”

She was already halfway out of the bedroom door before Veronica realised several things.

One, she was dead on Monday. Even more dead than last Monday.

Two, she still found Heather ridiculously attractive when she was angry and it was probably worrying how hot under the collar it made her.

Realisations three and four were centred around Heather’s eyes. She’d never noticed how grey they were before. In the light of her room, with her so close, it was easy to see the slivers of pale blue in them that made them almost shine. That was what she thought until she noticed they were red rimmed and glassy too, like she might have been crying at some point earlier in the night.

The fifth and most important realisation was that Heather had driven to her house. And if she was about to leave, she would no doubt drunkenly drive home too. Veronica really wasn’t sure she could handle having someone’s death on her conscience, even the demon queen herself.

“Wait.”

Heather stopped.

“You should stay. You can’t drive.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want.” The challenge in her eyes looked dangerous, and Veronica almost let her go. A fear clutched at her though when Heather moved to leave again. It took her until the next day to realise that it was a protective instinct, as unfathomable as it was fierce.

It didn’t make sense. Usually people needed protecting from Heather, not the other way around. And yet before she could leave, Veronica found herself reaching for her arm and catching her hand gently in her own. The thought of Heather crying looped in her head.

“Please stay.”

Heather looked at their joined hands with an unsure expression, like the contact confused her more than anything. Veronica tried again.

“If you die in a dramatic car crash, I’m pretty sure Westerburg would fall apart without you.” She squeezed the hand she was holding, and Heather’s gaze met her own searchingly.

There was a moment of silence, and a world of something between them that neither could quite put a name to. Veronica thought there was something like vulnerability in Heather’s eyes. It was so surprising it almost knocked the breath from her lungs. She wondered if it had always been there, and she’d just never looked for it. She wondered if anyone had.

Then as quick as it came the moment ended, and Heather retracted her hand with a thoughtful frown.

“I suppose,” she ventured, “you do have a point.”

“I do?” Veronica couldn’t quite remember the point, if she’d had one. Her brain was still stuck on its previous revelation, frozen like after drinking one of those slushies JD loved so much.

Heather released a theatrical sigh. “Fine, I’ll stay. But I’m taking the bed.” Veronica didn’t move to stop her when she kicked off her heels and fell somehow still gracefully onto the mattress, sinking instantly into the duvet and closing her eyes. She was asleep within seconds of her head hitting the pillow.

“I guess I’ll take the floor.” Veronica mumbled to herself.

She retrieved blankets from the closet and prepared a space for herself to sleep. Heather’s steady, even breaths where the only sound accompanying her. Veronica found herself intrigued by how peaceful Heather looked as she slept, soft in a way she never was when awake. The moment Veronica took one of her blankets, and placed it gently over the sleeping girl was the exact moment she knew she was screwed.

Being attracted to Heather Chandler was one thing. Who wasn’t? Developing an actual crush on her was a whole different ball game, one she couldn’t help but feel she was rigged to lose.  


* * *

_  
-Dear Diary: I failed step one.-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super appreciative of the feedback my dudes. I feed on comments and kudos. No really, it's all my diet consists of.


	4. Little Escapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the unplanned sleepover and these useless losers are useless. What's new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is some sort of implied reference to sexual assault/dubious consent this chap towards the bottom 'cause college guys are the worst, but nothing is spelled out or explained. Just alluded to in a characters thoughts.

Sleep had been a stranger that night. Veronica’s brain had refused to settle, a thousand thoughts a minute spinning round in her head like a record, and number one among them that she had a crush on Heather Chandler. An honest to God, ‘I’m more than a little fixated on you’, butterflies in the stomach, heart hammering crush.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. Heather was hot. Ridiculously hot. And everyone at Westerburg knew it including the Queen herself. She had those long blonde curls, the perfect symmetrical features, and Veronica was sure the girl was around 80% legs. She carried herself with a grace and confidence that drew attention and it would be near impossible to find anyone at the school who didn’t think Heather looked like hell on wheels.

Veronica certainly wasn’t blind. But while she may have slept with the blonde – mainly for said reasons of her ridiculous hotness – she had always thought herself to have a certain moral substance that would make crushing on someone as soulless as Heather Chandler impossible.

But she’d been wrong.

Heather wasn’t soulless, because she’d been crying and Veronica cursed the way it had turned the world upside down. It was easier to think of Heather as an abstract or an idea. She was perfect. She was untouchable. People worshipped her, so how could she be human when she was so obviously a God?

Veronica sat up, her back aching from lying on the floor, to see Heather sleeping soundly. She had never looked so human. Still in her dress from the night before, her makeup had smudged slightly on the pillow and the rays of light that just broke through the crack in the curtains landed on her face. Her eyes squeezed a little tighter and a soft grumble sounded in her throat before she tilted her head away just out of their range.

Veronica thought it was adorable.

Stupid crush.

She got up, thinking it was probably best to stop staring at Heather as she slept before it started to get creepy, and tiptoed into the bathroom to dress and brush her teeth as quietly as possible. Fortunately it was only a minor heart attack she suffered when the quiet was broken.

“Veronica, sweetheart?”

She panicked for a moment. “Mom?”

Her mother came into view, stopping just before her bedroom door. It was still slightly ajar, and Veronica glanced at it worriedly hoping she wouldn’t peer through the gap.

“Your dad and I are going out. The Millers invited us round for brunch. You’re welcome to come if you like,” her voice turned slightly conspiratorial as she continued, “I’m sure you’d get along well with their son David.”

Veronica rinsed her toothbrush as casually as possible. “Sounds great, but I promised I would hang out with Martha and Betty today.” The lie left her tongue more easily than she’d like. She blamed the Heathers.

“Well that’s nice. I’m so glad that you’re seeing them more often again.” Her mom smiled innocently, but they both knew it was a passive way of saying she hadn’t much liked her other friends. The Heathers hadn’t exactly left a good impression on her parents.

Veronica just smiled and waited for her to make her way down the stairs, and waited until she heard the front door close before she dared open the door to her room again. Heather was awake. She was sat up in bed, staring at the blanket over her legs like its presence was a great Sherlockian mystery.

“Hey.” Veronica half whispered.

Her tone was cautious. She left the door open, approaching the situation like Heather was a wild animal who could have chosen to fight or flee at any second. Heather eyed her with an unreadable expression before surveying her surroundings with an equally neutral expression.

“Your room is tiny.” She said it with a certain distaste.

“Or, it’s a normal sized room and you live in a mansion.”

Heather didn’t seem to hear her. She went back to staring at the blanket, a crease evident between her brows. Then a deep sigh heaved her chest.

“My head is killing me.” She looked up at Veronica expectantly, who blinked back at her, confused.

“I’m… sorry?”

Heather made an annoyed sound. “What are you waiting for? Go fix me a prairie oyster.”

The demand in her voice ushered Veronica into action on auto-pilot. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on hungover Heather duty and she knew she didn’t want to have to deal how cranky she would be without her hangover cure. 

She rushed downstairs and into the kitchen, trying to remember exactly how to make the drink.

It was vinegar, right? And egg? And… some other stuff. Maybe.

The finished article was imperfect but hopefully good enough. After the way Heather had been treating her since the party – confusing sexual stuff not withstanding – she ought to have spit in it. She might have done so had it not been for the even more confusing events of last night. Because she had a crush.

No matter how many times she repeated it in her head, it still didn’t quite make sense to her.

Heather was still sitting, picking at the blanket when Veronica returned and handed her the cup. She examined it with no small amount of suspicion.

“Did you spit in it or something?”

“No!” The reply was perhaps a little too hasty, because Heather’s raised a single brow pointedly.

“I thought about it.” Veronica amended sheepishly. Heather rolled her eyes and downed the contents of the cup with a grimace no doubt brought on by a vicious headache and slammed it, empty on the bedside table.

They fell into a somewhat uncomfortable silence once again. It wasn’t often that Heather could be seen visibly out of her comfort zone, but this seemed to be one such occasion. Waking in the bed of a girl she’d slept with, but didn’t particularly get along with, after having drunkenly arrived on her doorstep expecting sex only to be turned down. Veronica doubted it was a usual Saturday morning for her.

“We have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cupboard if you want to…” She trailed off, leaving the offer open, and Heather nodded slightly. As she moved past her out the door, Veronica noted that the redness around her eyes had mostly disappeared and her chest clenched. It was odd, to feel empathy for someone who would have none should the roles be reversed. How many people had the Heathers made cry?

But it felt different with Heather; she was supposed to be like Teflon. Instead it turned out that she secretly had feelings and Veronica really hated that she had chosen now to accidentally reveal that she was an actual human being because it was messing with her head.

She was doing stupid things. Like caring.

_Stupid crush._

Heather barged past her once more.

“I’m leaving,” she declared as she left the bathroom. “If you even think about telling anyone about this-“

“I know, I know. Ruined. Reindeer games. I remember the spiel.”

Heather glared but said nothing. She slipped her heels back on and brushed past Veronica once more on her way down the stairs.

It should have been the end of it. Heather would have walked out of her house and they could have pretended the whole thing hadn’t even happened. But around Heather, Veronica found she often had trouble controlling her mouth.

“Wait.”

“Ugh, what?” The word was elongated and punctuated with an exasperated arm movement that already had Veronica regretting speaking at all.

“I should drive you home. There’s no way you’re completely sober.”

Heather laughed. “You must be delusional if you think you’re getting your hands on my Porsche.” 

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so clingy?”

They had neared to within inches of each other. Veronica knew she wasn’t imagining it when Heather’s gaze drifted to her lips before she seemed to remember herself. When she looked away she looked angrier than she had been all morning.

“You think one fuck means I owe you something? Get a grip. I was drunk then and I was drunk last night. Stop making a thing out of it.” She looked so vehement that it was almost easy to believe the bathroom incident, when she had obviously not been drunk, had conveniently slipped her mind.

As she turned to leave, Veronica knew she should let her go. If she was so determined to go get herself killed in some tragic accident then good riddance. But inexplicably, her feet carried her down the stairs after her and out the front door.

Heather was bent at the knee on the driveway, seemingly looking for something.

“You dropped your keys out here didn’t you?” Veronica guessed.

Heather huffed annoyedly. “Do you see any pockets on this dress?” A moment later she smirked victoriously, and plucked her car keys from beneath a rock.  

“I still really think you should let me drive.”

“God, are you stuck on repeat or something?” She stood barely sparing Veronica a glance as she smoothed out her dress. “Why do you even care?”

Veronica really hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Sorry for not wanting you to die. Or get arrested.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, her subconscious whispered that maybe, she secretly just wanted to spend a little more time with the blonde too, but she absolutely refused to acknowledge it. Her subconscious was fired until further notice.

Heather stared her down as if trying to decipher some ulterior motive, before releasing a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “Fine. Get in, loser.” 

Veronica struggled to resist the victorious grin that tugged at her lips. She began to make her way to the lopsidedly parked car when Heather darted in front of her and opened the driver’s door.

“The passenger seat idiot. You’re still not driving my Porsche.”

“But-“

“You’re supervising. Now get in.” Heather was fixing her with her patented ‘don’t argue with me’ glare, which meant there was no way for Veronica to win. With a resigned nod she took a seat in the passenger’s side, and barely restrained a surprised yelp when Heather spun the car away from the sidewalk and tore off down the road half a second later.

She was sure she saw Heather smirk at her expense every time she went above the speed limit, or hit the break a little too hard, which incidentally was almost all the time. Every nervous squeak Veronica made seemed to brighten Heather’s day just a little.

At least someone was enjoying the journey.

Ten minutes later, they finally came to a screeching halt as they were let through the gates to Heather’s house, and Veronica had never been so grateful to exit a car in her life. Alternately, Heather stepped out with a satisfied smile which seemed to only broaden when she took in Veronica’s dishevelled state.

“What’s the matter Ronnie? Feeling a little car sick?” She said smugly. When Veronica didn’t reply she simply shrugged and headed off towards her house without another word. It occurred to Veronica only in that moment that her job was done and she was going to have to walk home.

When Heather spared her a glance behind, Veronica was still stood awkwardly in the driveway wondering how long it would take her to get back and why she hadn’t thought of that when she’d offered to make sure Heather got home safely in the first place. The blonde furrowed her brow for a moment before folding her arms with a sigh.

“What are you waiting for?” Veronica didn’t get chance to reply with anything more than an incomprehensible mumble before Heather continued. “Don’t you have to watch me up the stairs in case I fall and break my neck?”

The heavy dose of sarcasm was clear, but as Heather waited expectantly it was apparent that it was about as close to a polite invitation as she was ever going to manage. There was the smallest hint of an approving smile on her lips when Veronica made her way towards the house but she quickly turned, hiding it, and led them inside.

Heather’s parents didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. In all the number of times Veronica had visited she still had yet to meet them.

“Won’t your mom and dad wonder where you’ve been?” She asked. Heather didn’t deign to reply and instead marched up the stairs, clearly expecting Veronica to follow.

She felt like a perv when her first thought was that she didn’t mind following Heather all that much; there was always a great view. And if Veronica could have slapped her own brain she would have.

Heather’s room was much larger than her own. Unsurprisingly, there was a _lot_ of red. But weirdly, not too much either. Heather as it turned out was as good at interior styling as she was at makeovers. The room looked much similar to the last time Veronica had seen it, although it had been dark then. And she’d been a little preoccupied with other things than exploring the finer points of home decorating.

Veronica blushed. When she heard Heather snort she didn’t have to look up to know that she had practically read her mind, which was a little embarrassing considering how far in the gutter it currently resided.

Quickly, she glanced around for anything to change the subject and noticed something she hadn’t before. A book sat on the nightstand, which in and of itself was a revelation. She didn’t think Heather read books unless they had pictures in them and had ‘Vogue’ in the title.

She picked it up idly, turning it over in her hands.

“Wow. The Bell Jar. That’s… some heavy stuff.”

Heather’s head snapped up and something akin to panic lit her eyes as she darted over and snatched the book out of her hands.

“It’s for a class.” She replied, too nonchalant to be genuine. “Quit touching my things.”

Veronica was quietly confident that Heather had never bought a single book for any class in her life, but she let her have the lie.

“Stay here. I’m taking a shower.” The book was hastily stashed in a drawer, and it looked a little bit like an escape when Heather grabbed an outfit already hanging prepared on her wardrobe door and disappeared into the en-suite bathroom, but Veronica let her have that too.

It was an oddly comfortable wait, as relatively long as it was. Veronica spent the time exploring the room in a way she hadn’t had chance to before and the little things she noticed seemed to provide more insight into Heather than anything the blonde had ever said to her.

She was tidy, for instance. Everything seemed to have a right and proper place, as if her controlling personality extended to her own possessions too.

Or when Veronica flicked on the TV there was some French film playing she’d never heard about before and didn’t understand a word of. She wondered how many people would assume Heather Chandler was multilingual.

She turned the TV back off once the bathroom door opened and Heather stepped out dressed and make-upped and looking like she should be some kind of model. Veronica shuffled awkwardly in inferiority. How could anyone ever feel adequate standing next to her? She idly felt a pang of sympathy for Heather Duke, wondering if her predicament arose from that same feeling of inadequacy.

The shower seemed to have done wonders. Heather looked relaxed again. Confident. In control.

Another silence descended, leaving Veronica unsure as to why Heather had invited her in in the first place. Sort of. Heather looked like she was turning the same question over in her head. In a strange way it was calming to know that Heather was as unsure of her feelings on their situation as Veronica was. Like they weren’t sure exactly where they stood, but an odd connection was pulling them together regardless.

It was perhaps that same connection that had one question burning in Veronica’s mind.

“Heather…” She paused, and wet her lips, unsure how to word it. “What happened last night?”

For a while it seemed like Heather might not answer. She was sat on the luxurious queen bed, scratching at a small abrasion on her knee that Veronica hadn’t seen before. She didn’t look up when she finally answered.

“There was a Remington party. Not that you would understand anything about that.”

It was an odd sort of answer, giving very little away.

Veronica tried again. “Why didn’t you head home with Heather and Heather?” It was maybe a thinly veiled way of asking ‘why did you come to _me_?’ She had said it was about sex, but it wasn’t exactly like the blonde was short of options in that regard.

“They weren’t there. They had a double date or something.” She flicked her hand casually, as if disregarding it as a valid reason for not attending the party.

“Wait, you went to a college party on your own?”

Heather’s eyes were like knives when she responded. “I wasn’t supposed to be alone. I was supposed to be with you.”

“ _Me_?”

“Yes _you_ , moron. It was supposed to be your chance to prove yourself and Ram’s party was your test run.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You failed.”

Veronica blinked dumbly like a deer in headlights. The image of Heather with red, glassy eyes returned to the forefront of her mind and her heart sunk a little. Her eyes strayed to the graze on Heather’s knee.

She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t. Every conclusion she drew made her feel sick.

“I’m sorry.” She said, trying and failing to keep the emotion out of her voice. Heather looked like she might roll her eyes but Veronica continued before she could make any flippant remarks. “You shouldn’t have had to go alone.”

Heather’s mouth snapped shut. Her brow creased in something like confusion or awe; a strange mix of the two warred on her face.

Grey eyes shone, and while they didn’t water, they held a depth of emotion that floored Veronica and had her heart fluttering in her chest.

They held each other’s heavy gaze for so long the world outside it ceased to exist.

At least to them.

It was for this reason neither girl heard the door open, or the clip of heels on expensive hardwood flooring.

It was for this reason neither was prepared for an unexpected voice to rip its nails into their little world and tear them out of it.

It was for this reason, that in that moment, Veronica _really_ hated Heather Duke.

“Um, what the _hell_ is _she_ doing here?”

 

* * *

 

_-Dear Diary: I might care a lot about Heather Chandler. If I start to warm to McNamara and Duke too, I’m testing the water supply.-_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you lovely people thought of the chapter. I would also like to know people's suggestions on time period here. Is it '89 or is it modern day? I've tried to keep it ambiguous but I would ideally like to figure out when this is actually set lmao.
> 
> I love the 80's style and feel to the whole verse, but I like the idea of being able to work in modern communication like texting and so on. Could always be an alternate 80s where modern mobile phones exist. Or an alternate now where the style and lingo is still very 80s. Idk. Someone help me!


	5. Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mall shenanigans with the Heathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do the Heathers all have to be called Heather? What kind of sick twisted situation is that to navigate in writing? Just plain rude if you ask me.
> 
> For simplicity's sake Duke and Mac will pretty much always be referred to by their last names, while Chandler will mostly be referred to simply as 'Heather'.

Heather McNamara wanted to be anywhere but between the heated stare-off Duke and Chandler were engaging in. Veronica could tell because there was a lot of cringing involved on her part, and some none too subtle backing away until she was out of their peripheral vision. She even winced when Chandler stood suddenly, with a menacing look in her eyes.

The tension in the air was palpable, as if Veronica could reach out and touch something solid and cold.

Duke shrank back a little, and then even more when Heather took a calculated step forward into her space.

“She’s here-“ Heather said in a dangerous tone, “because I invited her. Do you have a problem with that, Heather?”

Minor update: Not that it had ever been in any doubt, but Heather Chandler was one scary bitch. Any trace of warmth of vulnerability that Veronica had seen, or at least thought she might have seen, moments ago was washed away by Heather the leader; terrifying, awe inspiring, and completely in charge.

Duke audibly gulped. “No Heather. Sorry Heather.”

She fell back in line beside McNamara, while the victor of their showdown smirked and sat back down on the bed, lounging as if she were a queen before her loyal subjects.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, I have some _very_ important news.” She motioned towards Veronica as if she were presenting her to the others. “Veronica here…” She let the sentence hang for a second, for dramatic tension no doubt, before she continued. “…is back on the team.” Heather finished, and three sets of eyes blinked in surprise.

“She is?” Duke and McNamara questioned in unison.

“I am?” Veronica echoed. When the hell had this decision been made?

 “You are.” Heather said it like it was half a gift and half a threat. She stood once more and strode towards Veronica confidently. She took Veronica’s chin in one hand gently, but there was no mistaking the intention. It’s presence there meant dominance. “Don’t mess it up.”

The ‘again’ remained unsaid but Veronica heard it through the warning in Heather’s eyes. Veronica had never felt so vaguely threatened and turned on in all her life. There was probably a professional she should talk to about that somewhere.

Heather released her. A squeal erupted from McNamara, who grinned and wrapped Veronica in a hug. Some people were like sunshine, and the smallest Heather was one of them. For someone not nearly as innocent as she seemed, she was incredibly easy to like. “I’m _so_ glad you’re back!” She declared.

Duke sighed. “Yeah. _Great_.”

The two of them glanced back at Chandler, but her eyes were on Veronica. It was difficult to tell what her reasons were, but Veronica wondered if it might be something like gratitude. A thanks for the night before.

A thanks for caring.

McNamara’s grin turned impish and conspiratorial. In a low voice to Veronica she added. “Heather’s been extra cranky since you left.”

She didn’t need to say which Heather.

“Alright, enough sentimental bullshit.” Chandler cut in between Duke and McNamara casually. “Let’s go hit the mall people. I need new shoes since some moron puked on my favourite pair last week.” She looked pointedly at Veronica.

“I’m pretty sure I mostly missed you.

Another pointed look. “Did you have a brain tumour for breakfast? You must be delusional if you think ‘ _mostly’_ is going to save those shoes.”

Veronica’s expression was sheepish. “How come you haven’t replaced them already?”

The only response she received was laughter, at a joke she clearly wasn’t in on.

“Duh! Of course she has.” Duke was staring at her like she was stupid while McNamara nodded seriously.

“But she needs at least 3 more pairs to get over the trauma.”    

“Oh. Right.” Obviously.

Chandler headed for the door and the Heathers followed like good little minions. As Veronica joined in step beside them it hit her that ‘the Heathers’ included her again now too. She didn’t know whether to be delighted or devastated, but in the week since her drunken, heat of the moment ‘resignation’, she had learned it was far better to be with them than against them.

She would just have to make sure to make time for Betty and Martha this time. Then everything would work out.

She hoped.

Besides, she thought, recent developments meant spending more time with the Heathers might not be so bad. Heather Chandler was secretly human after all, no matter how well she hid it. Veronica knew it now.

Maybe that would make all the difference.  
  


* * *

 

( _ONE WEEK LATER_ )

The words ‘ _let’s go hit the mall’_ had become synonymous with ‘ _let’s just torture Veronica’_.

In the space of a week they’d skipped classes twice to go shopping, and each time they all hopped into Heather Duke’s jeep to get there, Veronica had felt her life expectancy decrease.  Duke was an even worse driver than Chandler. A couple of mail boxes may have been among the victims to fall amidst the chaos, but it always seemed to pass by too quickly to tell. However there had definitely been a multitude of lawns caught up in the tragedy.

After the first journey, Veronica had exited the car with an expression that resembled the look a person might wear after being stuck in a freefalling elevator that had screeched to a stop inches before being obliterated.

McNamara had rested a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I did. It was the four of us. And would you look at that; we died tragically young in a car accident.”

After that Duke had laughed, and Veronica was quite sure she’d driven even more erratically the next time just to spite her.

Of course, it wasn’t just the driving that was torturing her. Heather Chandler was still evil after all, except she had found new ways to ruin her life this time around.

Namely, by being really goddamn hot.

Nothing more had happened between them. Yet despite the flimsy excuse that any attraction was an alcohol fuelled mistake, she took far too much delight in flirting while the other Heathers looked on oblivious.

Their second mall trip together, Heather had led them into a ridiculously expensive looking lingerie store and picked out a racy red lace set. Holding it against her body with a devious smile, she asked: “What do you think?”

Veronica nearly swallowed her tongue, while Duke and McNamara were quick on the ball with compliments.

“You would look so hot in that.”

“ _So_ very.”

Then Heather’s eyes had flicked to Veronica in a gaze that could only be described as smouldering.

“And what do you think?”

She knew exactly what she was doing. The faux innocent expression on her face did nothing to hide the cruel delight she took in the way Veronica had stood opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, trying desperately to find something to say that wasn’t extremely gay.

The other girls had just laughed at her, mistaking her megacrush for her being clueless about fashion and carried on.

The next time it happened they were looking at jewellery. Veronica had her eyes on a cute bracelet with panda pendants hanging from it when she had heard a derisive snort behind her. When she turned, she found Chandler standing so close that it would have only taken her leaning up just slightly for their lips to brush.

“ _God_ , you can’t accessorise for shit.” Heather scoffed. “Here.” She held out a necklace, a delicate silver and gold eagle that looked as beautiful as it was expensive.

With a twirl of her finger she instructed Veronica to turn around. There was a mirror that captured just how breathless she was when Heather stepped close enough behind her that front of her body pressed against Veronica’s back. Then she draped the necklace around Veronica’s neck and stared straight into the mirror, their eyes locked.

That devilish smile returned.

“Beautiful.” She whispered, close enough to Veronica’s ear that her warm breath elicited a shiver from the girl in blue. Her gaze never wavered once to the necklace as she spoke, and it was a mockery of a terrible cliché, but the smirk on her face said she knew it would make Veronica’s knees weak anyway.

Bitch.

She paid for the necklace, brutally shooting down the greasy cashier as she did so – “ _In your dreams_ ” – and handed the box to Veronica like it wasn’t an obscenely expensive gift. Duke and McNamara laughed when she made a joke about it being charity work because Veronica was poor, and Veronica laughed with them because Chandler had never been so see through.

Veronica wore the necklace every day.

It hung particularly heavy on their most recent shopping excursion, when on the way back Heather had made the unusual decision to sit in the back of the jeep beside her. It was later revealed to be an obvious torture tactic because her leg kept brushing against Veronica’s one too many times to be innocent.

The last time Heather’s knee brushed hers, she didn’t move it away. The contact felt charged, skin on skin the conduit for an electric energy that passed between them. Heather stared ahead. She was still partaking in whatever conversation Duke and McNamara were having that Veronica had tuned out of, but every now and then she shifted closer and more of her leg was pressed against Veronica’s. It could have been passed off as an accident if it weren’t for the slight smirk that tugged at her lips every time she felt Veronica press back.

There was tension, thick and heavy between them. Something unspoken, yet as clear as day.

Veronica toyed with her necklace, and Heather finally moved her gaze from the road ahead to follow the movement. She couldn’t disguise the upturn of her lips and Veronica wanted to kiss her then more than ever.  

It took everything she had to restrain herself.

And when their eyes met, she couldn’t help but wonder if the conflict in Heather’s eyes meant that she was restraining herself too.

 


	6. Another Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Car rides get pretty gay.

The best and worst thing about a dream was that you never knew when you were dreaming.

So when Veronica pushed Heather against the wall and kissed her desperately, she didn’t wonder where her newfound confidence had come from. When they fell into bed with their bodies still pressed tightly together, she didn’t question how they had gotten there. Because Heather’s tongue was in her mouth, and she was making this sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp that had Veronica shaking with lust and nothing else mattered.

Their legs were tangled, and Veronica commanded Heather where to touch her and how hard she wanted to be taken and Heather complied. Teeth tugged at her ear and the ensuing shiver it caused felt real. And when the words “ _you’re mine_ ” were whispered possessively in her ear, her hips bucked and her back arched, and Heather’s name left her tongue in a strangled cry.

And that felt real too.

Very real.

So real that her eyes popped open and her heart thudded so hard in her chest it felt like someone had ripped it out only to catapult it back through her ribs at the speed of sound.

She was alone. The bedsheets were soaked through with sweat and her brow was damp, among other places that made her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Veronica, honey? Is everything alright, we heard shouting?”

The embarrassment intensified.

“Yeah, no, I’m… Everything’s fine mom! Just a nightmare.”

If she could just die now, that would be great. She hoped the breathless shame in her voice wasn’t too noticeable. It was the second time that week it had happened, so shame was easy to come by.

Once her breathing had resumed its usual schedule, the shower called to her (to rinse away the shame). It took an hour afterwards before she was remotely ready for the day. In part because her mind kept wandering unhelpfully to her dream, but also because it took that long to fix her hair and makeup the way the Heather’s had shown her.  

Suddenly, a loud beeping sounded from outside, and Veronica cringed.

Racing down the stairs and out the front door she came face to face with her second greatest fear: Heather Chandler behind a steering wheel. (Only surpassed of course by her first greatest fear, Heather Duke behind a steering wheel).

“Y’know, I could always pick you up some days…” She suggested. Ever since she’d been back with the Heathers, Heather McNamara had been riding into school with Heather Duke instead of Chandler as usual because “ _Duh Heather, she lives closer to you.”_ It would have been almost sweet that Heather wanted to spend more time with her if it weren’t so torturous.

Heather sneered. “And turn up in your shitty car? Get real.”

There was no use arguing. With a sigh, Veronica started moving towards the car with obvious trepidation, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Heather watching her in amusement.

“Speed it up, I don’t have all day,” she commanded.

“I’m just preparing myself.”

It took another whole minute before Veronica finally made contact with the seat, and Heather scoffed at how quickly she reached for her seatbelt.

“Don’t be such a pussy, _Ronnie_.” Her tone was dismissive, leaving no chance to reply as she reversed full speed off the driveway and onto the road. Veronica whispered a silent prayer. Heather had a lead foot and either didn’t know what a stop sign meant, or had serious issue with following simple instruction.

“I have a question.” Veronica wondered aloud. “Did you actually pass your test, or did you just buy your licence?”

“What licence?”

Veronica groaned, and Heather looked far too pleased with herself.

“Relax, loser. I passed with flying colours.”

It was suspicious. Very suspicious. “I find that pretty hard to believe.”

Heather tore around another corner and smirked at the white-knuckle grip Veronica had on the edge of her seat. “ _Please_ , you don’t seriously think I took the stupid test?” She raised brow with a brief laugh. Then casually she added, “I just blew the examiner.”

Oh.

It was unexpected if not entirely unsurprising. Veronica was fighting an inner crisis on how exactly she was supposed to respond to that when she caught Heather rolling her eyes.

“You’re too easy, Sawyer.” She laughed, haughty and superior. “Such a pillowcase.”

Right. A joke. One that wasn’t cruel and vindictive. That was new.

“Ha. Ha. Who knew Heather Chandler was such a comedian?”

“As if anyone knows anything about me.”

Heather looked impassive. Her words were flippant, as if she hadn’t perhaps just said something completely genuine and just a little bit heart-breaking. She let little things slip like that sometimes, when it was just the two of them. Things that told more than she probably meant to share.

Veronica mouth twisted into a small smile. She wanted to say something warm and supportive, but the look on her face must have telegraphed her intent because Heather’s lips curled in distaste.

“Ugh, if you start reciting poetry I swear to God I’ll kill us both.”

A low chuckle escaped Veronica. When had she started to find Heather endearing?

“No poetry.” She said innocently, wondering how far she could push her luck. “Maybe a song though. ’No-one sees the me inside of me’, the Heather Chandler life story.”

Heather grimaced. “ _Jesus_ , that’s disgusting. You’re making me sound like Air Supply.”

Veronica’s chuckle this time was even louder. More of a chortle if anything. She opened her mouth but before she could speak Heather shot her down with a dagger-like glare. “One more word, and you’re riding with Duke for the rest of the week.”

The demon queen really knew where to strike.

A satisfied smile settled across the blonde’s lips when Veronica sank back into her seat, defeated. There was pouting involved, but Veronica was more amused than anything. She felt warmth, and all of it was directed at the girl beside her. Heather was like oxygen. Everywhere all at once, and suddenly as necessary to Veronica as breathing. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly when it had happened. When that shift from all consuming heat had transformed into something altogether more confusing, and no less intense.

Her crush was becoming ridiculous.

When Heather reached to turn up the radio, Veronica nearly reached out under the pretence of doing the same. Just to touch her hand. Just for the contact that would set her skin on fire and her heart racing, and she was completely aware of how pathetic it all was.

She glanced aside to find Heather glancing back at her.

A glance turned into a gaze and it was easy to forget Heather was supposed to be watching the road until Veronica caught movement in her peripheral vision.

“Heather!” Veronica grabbed the steering wheel and pulled. The breaks screeched. The car careened off the road and only came to a stop after they had mounted the sidewalk and narrowly avoided becoming a new fixture in a nearby wall.

Then everything was quiet.

Heavy breaths wracked Veronica’s lungs. She watched wide eyed as the dog she had seen run into the road trotted off oblivious, though she doubted Heather would be consoled by the fact when her Porsche had nearly paid the price. Nervously she chanced a look at her. Heather’s jaw was clenched, her chest heaving with breaths as deep as Veronica’s, and when she finally turned to face her, her eyes were filled with liquid fire.

Veronica swallowed anxiously.

“Okay… Heather… Before you kill me, you should just know that I really love animals and-“ Her words were cut short by the sudden pull of Heather’s hand fisting tightly round her collar. Then their lips collided. Anything she might have been about to say escaped her brain and _Heather is kissing me_ was all that remained. Heather’s hand remained at her collar, while the other was gripped in her hair, keeping her so close they might have fused.

Like always, Heather had surprised her. But God had Veronica missed this.

Suddenly, Veronica was propelled back into her seat, but before she could grumble about the loss of Heather’s lips, Heather was climbing over the seat to straddle her. Instantly their mouths were fixed back together again. Every kiss was crushing and desperate in a way that told Veronica that Heather had missed this too.

It was frenzied, heated, and completely inappropriate for being out in the street mid-morning on a weekday. But the road was secluded, and Heather’s tongue brushed Veronica’s and her weight in her lap felt too much like heaven to be ruined by something stupid like logic.

Veronica’s hands found the outside of Heather’s thighs and the feel of her skin brought back every pleasant memory that put her dream to shame. Her dream was nothing compared to this. It was the heat from a candle next to the heat of the sun.

And yet like her dream, it was over far too quickly.

Heather’s lips were gone, and a sharp pain in her arm made Veronica’s eyes snap open, and it took her a moment to realise she’d been slapped on the arm. Grey eyes glared back at her, slightly unfocused.

“You stupid fuck. You almost killed us.” Heather spat. Then she kissed Veronica once more. It was as brief as it was fierce, and when she pulled back once more her teeth worried her lower lip like she was stopping herself from diving back in for more.

Veronica blinked.

“And that lead to kissing me, how exactly?”

With a tilt of her head, Heather huffed out a deep breath. “Adrenaline.” Shrugging her shoulders, she drew closer once more. This time slowly. Her breath warmed Veronica’s face as she waited there, torturously close, until Veronica closed the distance.

How had they waited so long to do this again?

_Why_ had they waited at all?

This should have occupied their every hour for the last month. It should have consumed every free moment ever since they had first kissed that night in Heather’s room. Because right then Veronica couldn’t think of a single thing she’d rather be doing with her time than making out with Heather Chandler.

Nothing had ever felt so good.

When they separated reluctantly once more, Heather smirked and Veronica’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. Heather slid off Veronica’s lap and back into the driver’s seat, and the loss of contact felt like losing a limb.

Glancing in the mirror, Heather dabbed at her mouth to fix the places where her lip gloss had gone awry.  

“Count yourself lucky my Porsche didn’t suffer for your little stunt,” she said with a threatening tone, though she was clearly fighting a losing battle against a smile. She continued to fight it as she turned the keys and started the engine, but by the time they parked up at school she was still yet to beat it.

Veronica meanwhile had been grinning like an idiot the entire journey.

“Oh my God, where have you guys been? You missed first period.” Heather McNamara called out when she spotted them making their way through the busy hallway. As usual, the crowds parted as she made her way over, followed quickly by Heather Duke.

“What the hell happened to your hair?”

The girl in green stared at Veronica’s head like a bird had taken nest there, and Chandler’s lips curled into a satisfied smile that made it clear said mussed up hair was no accident.

“Do you even own a brush?” Duke asked. There was something like suspicion in her eyes and it set Veronica on edge.

McNamara stifled a laugh.

“Don’t worry I have one in my bag. We can totally fix this,” she grinned.

The smallest Heather took Veronica by the hand and led her towards the bathroom. As Chandler took her place at the forefront of the group, she only had to glance back once to set Veronica’s pulse racing. And no matter how gentle McNamara’s grip was, or how sweetly she talked about Veronica’s mess of hair, Veronica couldn’t help but wish it was another Heather’s hand she was holding.

* * *

 

_-Dear Diary: It might be time to test the water supply-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreading? What is proofreading? Idk. That's why these are always rushed, nonsensical trash.
> 
> Anyway this is usually around the time my muse dies so sorry this took a little longer. My inspiration is always fickle. I feel like this is bad but I wanted to update so meh. Sorry if it sucks.


	7. Under the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More shenanigans at school. I swear there is a plot to this story, right? It's not just these losers being gay, I definitely left a plot around here somewhere.

“Veronica, are you even listening?”

Blinking innocently, Veronica’s eyes darted between Heather Duke and Heather McNamara, who were both staring at her expectantly.

Veronica had in fact _not_ been listening. Truth be told, she hadn’t even been aware a conversation was happening at all, let alone one that she was supposed to be a part of. Her cheeks heated under their questioning gaze.

This was beginning to become a problem, and it definitely wasn’t one of her own making.

“Yeah, Veronica. Try to keep up.” Another voice chimed, unmistakably smug.

And there was the source of the problem.

Heather Chandler was a sadist. She found new ways to be cruel all the time, and today’s method was particularly evil, even by her standards. Veronica’s jaw twitched. She glared at Heather as subtly as she could and Heather just smiled like the devil in response.

As Veronica parted her lips to reply, the hand that had been making purposeful strokes on her inner thigh moved higher, and the only sound she could manage was a high pitched, incredulous “Ah!”

All three Heathers were watching her. Two were perplexed, and one clearly mischievous.

Veronica tried to slide along the bench away from Chandler as delicately as she could, but being the demon that she was Heather only turned her body casually to disguise her move to follow her. The table between them and the other two girls hid the way Heather’s hand reached further, tipping just slightly past the bottom of Veronica’s skirt.

It did nothing however to hide the red in Veronica’s face.

God damn Heather Chandler.

“Sorry, I got a little-“ She had to pause when the soft pressure of fingers trailing far too high for comfort caused her brain to short circuit. A noise caught in the back of her throat that she hoped sounded like a cough. “I got a little distracted.”

Duke just rolled her eyes. “Rude much? _Anyway_ , like I was saying-“ She looked pointedly at Veronica. “Anderson is such a hardass. That test on Monday was such bull.”

“I know! How are we supposed to cheat if she doesn’t tell us there’s going to be a quiz?” McNamara said seriously. 

The hand on Veronica’s thigh became less purposeful, as Heather focused on the conversation, idly making patterns on her leg.

“I swear she put ‘myriad’ in there again just to openly be a bitch.”

Heather was touchy about the word myriad. 

It was a source of confusion for Veronica. While McNamara had always struggled a little in school, Duke was quite intelligent, and Chandler even more so. But they all put the same amount of effort into their studies as they did into getting along with the ‘geek squad’ as they called it, which is to say none at all. Why bother when all they had to do was bat their lashes at some nerd and he would do all their homework and get the answers to any test they desired?

Except of course ones they didn’t know about.

“Y’know, I could always tutor you?” Veronica said before she had chance to think it through and stop herself.

The resulting silence spoke volumes. As did the laughter that came directly afterward.

At least the hand on her thigh had stilled, giving Veronica that chance to grab it. It was meant so that it couldn’t continue its journey upwards, but the odd look Heather gave her made her realise they were now essentially holding hands under the table.

Veronica bit her lip and watched the conflict play out on Heather’s face. For a moment her shoulders tensed, like she might pull away. As if inappropriate touching was fine, but holding hands was much too intimate.

Then she relaxed, and her hand remained where it was.

A quick glance around the lunch room assured Veronica that nobody was paying them any attention. Heather had made sure to position herself so that no-one would be able to see what she had been doing, so short of Duke or McNamara getting under the table to retrieve a fallen fork or something, they were unlikely to be caught out.

That still didn’t stop Heather ripping her hand away in a hurry when Ram and Kurt made their way over, as if they might use x-ray vision to spot the intimacy through the table and declare it to the whole cafeteria.

Veronica tried not to be a little offended. Though she supposed even ten minutes holding Heather Chandler’s hand was more than she ever dreamed she might get.

“Hey ladies.” Kurt leaned on the table eyeing each of them with a dumb smile he no doubt thought was charming. “Brody’s place is free this Saturday, so party’s on. See you hotties there?”

Ram chimed in as always with a suggestive wiggle of his brows. “Zellarman’s house is huge. A lot of bedrooms, if you know what I mean.”

“I think people could see what you mean from space, jackass.” Duke scoffed.

Ram and Kurt just laughed, and knuckle punched as they walked away talking about how so clearly into them she was. It was sad to see two people who couldn’t so much as rub two brain cells together between them.

“Assholes.” Duke muttered, even as she watched Kurt walk away with a small amount of appreciation for his ass.

Heather McNamara was too busy grinning to hear her. “Brody’s parties are amazing. And his parents have that huge hot tub! It’ll great, with all of us together again. You’ll love it Veronica.”

She smiled her sunny smile, the excitement in her voice clear.

Shifting uncomfortably, Veronica couldn’t help but cringe. Deflating McNamara’s happiness was like kicking a puppy.

“I can’t go,” she mumbled.

The Heathers stared.

McNamara’s kicked puppy face activated.

“What do you mean you can’t go?” Chandler asked. Was it too much to hope that she sounded a little disappointed?

Veronica cringed even more. There was no way this wasn’t going to go badly for her.

“I... kind of… promised I would hang out with Martha and Betty this Saturday.”

She shrank, preparing for world war three.

McNamara gasped. Duke smiled like she knew Veronica was history. And Chandler continued staring.

“You would rather hang with Martha Dumptruck and pathetic Betty Crocker than with us?” There was incredulity in Duke’s voice, as well as delight. She was enjoying this far too much.

Chandler turned to her sharply. “Shut up, Heather.”

The smile on Duke’s face died instantly. She narrowed her eyes at Veronica like it was somehow her fault.

Heather raised a shapely brow as she turned back to the girl whose hand she had been holding just moments ago. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, her expression was guarded, her grey eyes calculating. Veronica just wanted to hold her hand again and forget she’d said anything.

“You have to go to the party. Everyone will be there.”

It was clear that by everyone, Heather meant everyone she considered worth a damn. Not people like Martha. Not people like Betty. But she wanted Veronica there, and Veronica hated the way it made her chest tighten.

Her words weren’t a simple statement. They were a royal decree from the demon queen and not something anyone could rebel against lightly.

She was giving her every chance to back down. A lifeline before she did something stupid.

Veronica wet her lips nervously and said, as firmly as she could muster, “I can’t ditch them again.”

Even amidst the bustle and noise of the lunch room the tension in the air seemed to render the whole place quiet. It hadn’t of course, but a little bubble surrounded them where nothing else existed except the awkward silence she had created. Duke and McNamara were frozen, eyes darting between Veronica and their great leader as they waited for the inevitable explosion.

Heather had yet to break eye contact, her expression still indecipherable.

She possessed the kind of cool gaze that could make a single second feel like being trapped for a thousand years in a hell dimension.

Then suddenly, as if from nowhere, she scoffed. And rolled her eyes. And tilted her head casually like there had been no tension at all. “Fine. Keep your little nerd and her fat friend.”

Across the table, the other two Heathers looked ready to faint from pure shock. Either Chandler pretended not to notice their shocked stares, or didn’t care enough to acknowledge them.

“But you’re still coming to the party,” she added.

Veronica started to protest, but the look she received from Heather made the words die in her throat.

“You royally fucked up at Ram’s, and you missed the Remington party because of your little mental breakdown. You’d have to be delusional to think I’m letting you miss another.” Her words were firm, but there was something behind them that made Veronica shiver. The Remington party. She had a feeling she would never know the specifics of what went on there, what Heather had to go through. She was sure she never wanted to. But the thought of it alone made a white-hot fury build up in her at anyone that would dare make Heather cry.

Their eyes were glued to each other’s, a silent understanding between them.

She’d meant what she’d said. Heather should never have had to go to that party alone. And now, in her own Heather kind of way, Heather was asking Veronica to look out for her at this one.

She would never say the words. She would never admit to it.

Maybe it wasn’t even a conscious thought at all. But Veronica could see it in her eyes, that small amount of fear that made her heart ache.

Martha and Betty could deal with one missed sleepover.

Veronica was going to the damn party.

“I could hang with them, then leave early and meet you at Brody’s place?”

“Good. You’d better not be late.” Heather said, not nearly as nonchalant as she seemed.

It was so minute it was almost unnoticeable, but Veronica had become so attuned to reading Heather’s body language between all the things she wouldn’t say, that she couldn’t help but see the way the tension seemed to roll out of Heather at her words. Her shoulders relaxed, a breath she might have been holding left her. And Veronica knew she had made the right decision.

Duke and McNamara were still aghast at how Veronica had somehow avoided becoming a squashed stain on the ugly linoleum floor. Chandler released an annoyed sigh.

“Why are you staring like mentally challenged morons? Did someone suck your brains out through a straw this morning?” She scorned, and the other Heathers' mouths snapped shut.

“Sorry Heather.” They said in unison, eyes averted to their mostly empty lunch trays.

The conversation quickly moved on, back to tests and lip gloss and parties.

Veronica was still thinking about _the_ party. Remington. And she wondered if Heather was too.

Slowly reaching out her hand, Veronica placed it low on Heathers thigh. There was no move to shift it higher. She just let it rest there, gentle and comforting.

And while Heather pretended not to notice, she let it rest there too.    
  


* * *

  
Veronica was on her way to class when she was grabbed from behind, and her life flashed before her eyes.

“Woah, hey it’s just me.” A familiar, cool grin greeted her and Veronica’s heart somehow managed to start beating again.

“JD. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to give people heart attacks?”

“Hmm. I suppose I must have skipped that class.” He said dryly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “I haven’t seen you around much, since you were kidnapped by the clones again.”

His tone was a little condescending. He made no secret of his distaste for the popular crowd. Not that she could blame him much, most of them weren’t exactly kind to him either. Still, the way he directed his ire at the Heathers made her bristle. She felt oddly protective of them, like they were demons, but they were her demons now. McNamara was her friend, and Chandler was something else entirely.

And Duke…

Well 2 out of 3 wasn’t bad. And in a strange way she’d kind of gotten used to the green Heather’s attitude. If Heather possibly-the-devil-herself Chandler was secretly human, Duke had to be too, right? Somewhere under the constant sniping.  

“Yeah, it’s been pretty crazy lately.” That was putting it lightly. But she definitely didn’t need to go into detail about how messed up her head had been trying to sort through all her Heather Chandler related baggage.

The demon queen had walls the size of skyscrapers surrounding her. But Veronica had knocked politely, and Heather had built a little window for her to occasionally climb through. Sure, sometimes it was locked, and the blinds were drawn. It was progress nonetheless.

It made her heart hurt to think that she might be the first to knock at all. The first to see those walls and wonder what was on the other side.  

JD shook his head.

“You said you were done with them.” He continued, leaning against his locker.

“Believe it or not they’re actually not that…” She trailed off when she saw him shooting her a disbelieving look. “Okay, yeah, they are pretty bad. But-“

“You can’t tell me you’re actually defending these people. Veronica, they make everyone’s life a living hell at this school.” His voice was passionate. More alive than she’d ever heard him sound about anything.

She wondered how many schools he’d been too. How many bullies he’d crossed paths with. How many cruel girls and obnoxious jocks had made his life miserable over the years.

“Please don’t talk over me.” She implored, resting a hand on his shoulder. He instantly deflated, looking guilty. “I’m not defending the things they’ve done. But they’re my friends.”

Her words were firm, and true. Because the Heathers were awful, but maybe they could be less awful. Not by much, she wasn’t shooting for a miracle.  But even just a little, and she’d have done some good.

_Dear diary: I think I just committed to trying to teach the Heathers some human decency. Good luck, me._

“I just think it would be a shame to see you turn into one of them.” His eyes were sincere, more open and honest than he usually was.

She laughed awkwardly and punched him in the arm. “C’mon, I’ll always be a Veronica.”

Amused once again, his familiar smirk returned to his face. “Glad to hear it.”

The hallway crowd was thinning slowly as people entered their respective classes. A few minutes longer and they were both going to end up late. She didn’t really mind all that much; she was far too used to forging excuses from various teachers by now.

JD didn’t seem all too bothered either. But then he never really seemed bothered by anything.

“So, maybe if you’re free tonight we could hit the 7/11? It is a _swanky date_ after all. I feel those linoleum aisles calling to me.” He asked, unable to hide the slight hopeful tinge to his words beneath his cool exterior.

There was a metaphorical bead of sweat falling down the side of Veronica’s brow, she could feel it. Her pulse sped a little as she tried to come up with an excuse that wasn’t ‘ _while I still have a bit of a crush on you, it’s currently overshadowed by my huge, ridiculous infatuation with Heather Chandler and I’m too obsessed over it to even think about dating someone right now’_.

Then she was saved by another voice.

“Oh look, it’s Veronica, who’s supposed to be hauling ass to 107 to meet me.”

Veronica turned to see Heather striding towards her, and she would have apologised for getting waylaid until she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by how painfully attractive Heather was. She wasn’t sure if everyone in the school had to deal with this particular problem every time the Queen Bee entered their line of sight, or if it was just specific to her.

Coming to a stop beside her, Heather levelled a look at JD that could only be described as disgusted.

“Jesse James. Quelle surprise.” Her tone was bored. “Why don’t you go be tall, dark and deranged somewhere else?”  

With his fists and jaw clenched, JD made every effort to ignore her completely, but the pure hatred rolling off him was obvious. He glanced back at Veronica.

“Tonight?”

Panic rose in her once again. She really didn’t have an adequate excuse, and she couldn’t tell him she liked someone else right in front of Heather. That would be sink through the floor, change your name, and run away to Mexico, kind of mortifying. Heather’s torture would get worse. She’d never live it down.

Thankfully Heather answered for her, like a goddess descended from the heavens sent to save her from an awkward situation.

“Unfortunately for you, she’s with me tonight. Now run along.” It was a perfectly innocent sentence, but from Heather it made Veronica’s heart race.

JD frowned. He looked back once at Veronica, with an expression that said ‘ _see, this is what she is’_ , and then stalked off. But Veronica already knew what Heather was. Who she was. Better than anyone.  

“Are we really hanging out tonight? Or did you just say that to get him to go away?”

Heather stopped smirking smugly at the back of JD’s head, and a thoughtful expression crossed her face. “I changed my mind about that thing you offered at lunch. We’re starting tonight.”

“That thing?” Veronica’s brow creased as she tried to think back before it hit her. She was about to clarify when she saw that Heather’s eyes full of warning and Veronica knew that if she said the word ‘tutor’ out loud she would be strangled with her own intestines.

“Right. _That_ thing.”

Heather didn’t respond again. She simply grabbed Veronica by the hand and pulled her through the now mostly deserted hallway towards the bathroom.

“107 is the other way.” Veronica pointed out. Heather just rolled her eyes as she pushed the door open, happy after a quick inspection that it was empty.

“Well, since you already made us late…” Her lips curled into a wicked smile as she pulled them both into a cubicle and locked the door behind them. Veronica’s breath caught in her throat. And as she was pushed up against the cubicle door and Heather’s lips found hers, she found she didn’t much mind if they were just a few minutes later.  
  


* * *

_  
\- Dear Diary: Please pray for my attendance. -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I have yet to master the art of reading through my goddamn work and editing out typos, grammar mistakes and general issues with flow and pacing because I'm a lazy piece of shit. Hope you still love me?


	8. The Dread Pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Studying, Movies and Parties, oh my.

Heather Chandler wasn’t one for studying.

The vocab notes Veronica had written out for her had been discarded after a brief, disdainful glance, following which Heather had turned away with an annoyed sigh.

“I would rather drink drain cleaner than read through these notes one more time,” she declared.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “We’ve been working for ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes too long.”

She studied her nails, the practiced picture of disinterest.

 “Well If you didn’t want to study, why did you invite me over?” Veronica threw up her hands in frustration. Heather’s gaze drifted from the ceiling to meet Veronica’s eyes, and the corners of her lips curled upward slowly. For a moment, she didn’t move at all.

One hand was planted firmly on the bed, while the other combed delicately through the curls in her hair as she regarded Veronica through her lashes.

“Don’t be a dimwit,” she whispered mockingly, before leaning forward and pressing a single finger against Veronica’s chest. The pressure was light, but it was a clear order and Veronica followed it without hesitation. Lying back on the bed, her breathing had all but stopped as Heather followed, crawling until her knees were astride Veronica’s hips, and their lips were centimetres apart.

“This isn’t gonna teach you how to use the word myriad.” Their lips brushed as Veronica spoke.

Heather scoffed.

“Look at the _myriad_ of fucks I give.”

“…That was… actually pretty accurate. Sarcasm aside.”

“Veronica. Shut up.”

So Veronica did. Not that she was given much choice, with Heather kissing her so distractingly. Everything Heather did was distracting, but the kissing most of all. She always made these little noises, like satisfied sighs, or a hum of approval against Veronica’s lips that near melted Veronica every time she did it. 

Heather had a hand on the side of Veronica’s neck, her thumb stroking at her pulse point. Then her hand wandered, across the curve of Veronica’s chest, and then to the hem of her shirt, exploratory fingers brushing underneath it.

It was intoxicating.

Distracted as she was, it was fortunate that they had broken apart momentarily to gasp hungry breaths of air when heavy steps echoed from outside the room.

Their eyes met, wide.

In the hasty scramble to separate that followed, Heather ended up on the floor. As she stood she shot Veronica a look that was truly terrifying as she straightened out her skirt.

Then the door swung open, and a tall man entered.

He was extremely well dressed; his suit jacket perfectly tailored, and his blonde hair parted in a meticulously neat manner. But it was the calculating glare in his dark eyes that was far too familiar for him to be anyone but Heather’s dad.

“Honey, you didn’t say you were having anyone over,” he said. The words weren’t warm, though they weren’t particularly cold either. Rather, there was an odd detachment to them. An endearment said none too endearingly.

“We’re studying.” Heather replied, less commanding than usual.

Her father laughed.

“Pretty girls like you don’t need to study.” His eyes lit up in amusement, his tone patronising.

Veronica couldn’t help the awkward chuckle that escaped her. “I don’t think being pretty has any reflection on test scores.”

Two sets of grey eyes stared at her.

In hindsight, had she spent a moment longer thinking before she opened her mouth, Veronica might have decided it would have been a good idea to say nothing at all. If the cool silence hadn’t been enough to convince her, the way Heather’s dad’s gaze fixed on her darkly would have certainly done it.

“I’m sorry, I must have forgotten your name.” He said with an unconvincing smile. He looked her up and down and barely cared to conceal his condescension.

“Uhm, we haven’t met.” Veronica shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “It’s Veronica.”

Humming in response, it was difficult to tell if he had taken her words in at all. “And what part of town are you from?” Though the smile never left his face, the intent behind it was clear.

It was odd, the way he almost made her feel embarrassed when she answered him. She wasn’t - despite Heather’s misconception – in any way poor. Her family was never going to be rich, but they had never really been struggling either. Despite that, it was obvious to people like the Chandlers that anyone who didn’t have a pool in their back yard was no doubt living off food stamps and barely getting enough money together to buy their own clothes.

“How nice.” He said in a way that made it clear he didn’t think it was nice at all before his eyes shifted back to Heather. “Your mother sent me to tell you those two girls are here asking for you.” As he left he glanced once more at Veronica and added, “Nice to meet you, Vanessa.”

The door closed, and it was difficult to miss the small amount of resignation in the way Heather rolled her eyes. Her hand was held out to Veronica, who took it and suddenly felt the weight of the intense conversation lift from her shoulders.

“Come on. Let’s go see what those bitches want.”

Heather didn’t release her hand right up until they reached the front door. At first it had surprised Veronica, who looked around nervously for sight of Heather’s dad, or the mom she had yet to meet. But neither were anywhere to be seen. Every time Veronica had been in their house, they had been absent, and initially she had thought that it meant they must go out a lot.

Now she wondered if they had been there most of the time, and in that large house had secluded themselves away as far from their daughter as possible.

“See, I told you she would already be here.” Duke muttered to McNamara when the door opened, none too happily. The smaller girl just smiled in response when her eyes landed on Veronica.

“We were going to call you to see if you wanted to hang out with us, but Heather said you were probably already here.” She explained, and the smallest wave of panic flooded through Veronica at the suspicious look Duke was giving her while McNamara talked.

From the way Chandler squared her shoulders and refused to even glance in Veronica’s direction, the same thought had occurred to her too.

 _Dear Diary: We might have a Heather problem. And for once it’s a different Heather._  
  


* * *

  
The next few days had been bereft of ‘study’ sessions and quite frankly it sucked.

Alone time with Heather had been minimised to the point that Veronica felt a strange sense of separation anxiety gripping her, and that sucked even harder. 

Duke’s suspicion had clearly unsettled their almighty leader. She seemed more distant every day, and Veronica worried that if Duke kept watching them both, Heather would end up out of her reach for good.

As much as it pained Veronica to admit it, she had become attached to Heather; her awkward glued to Heather’s confidence, her optimism woven to Heather’s mean, her heart sewn to Heather’s vulnerability. And now Heather’s absence made it feel like Veronica was missing a limb, and all her complicated emotions were trying to beat her with it.

“Veronica, is everything okay?” Martha asked. She had a sincere worry written all over her face that was mirrored in Betty. “You’ve been really quiet.”

It was hard to deny when it was true.

“Yeah, of course. Just full from all the popcorn.” Veronica forced a smile that by the looks on their faces, her friends saw straight through. They shared a look, before Betty crawled over to the TV to stop the worn-out video of The Princess Bride (they really had to stop letting Martha choose the movie). Before Veronica knew it, both Betty and Martha were cross-legged in front of her.

“Nuh uh, you’re not getting out of it that easy, missy.”

“Yeah, spill. You can tell us.”

They stared intently.

Veronica twisted her mouth, throwing around all the ways she could possibly broach what was wrong without giving them too much information. It didn’t sit well with her, keeping secrets from them. But what else could she do? It wasn’t just her secret to tell, and from the way Heather was reacting to Duke’s suspicion there was no way she’d be happy with Veronica blurting everything out now.

“So, say you kind of… like someone-”

“Like? Or _like_ like?” Betty enquired, her eyes lighting up.

Veronica rolled her eyes, a small smile beginning to tug at the corners of her lips. “ _Like_ like.”

Betty grinned in response like she was withholding a squeal. The usually quiet girl came alive whenever anything vaguely romantic was mentioned. She lived for it.

Martha on the other hand looked slightly more concerned. She was smiling, but her eyes held that small inkling of anxiety that Veronica had become accustomed to seeing. “Is this about Jason Dean?”

“I’m not going to confirm or deny that.” Veronica said with a sly smile that made both girls laugh. It was probably the best way forward. Don’t tell the truth, but avoid lying. What could go wrong?

“So, say you _like_ like someone. And say, hypothetically, things happen with said someone.”

“Romantic things?” Martha asked.

Veronica nodded.

“Naked things?” Betty asked.

Veronica nodded again.

Then all hell broke loose.

“Oh my God, Veronica! You… You lost your…” Martha hesitated, then whispered quietly, “ _flower_?” The word was so quiet she almost just mouthed it. Her obvious wariness of JD had disappeared and a shocked grin had taken her face hostage. She wasn’t exactly comfortable talking about sex, but her excitement was obvious in the way her eyes had widened in awe.  

The squeal Betty had been holding in earlier was released. “You did it! I can’t believe it. You ventured into uncharted waters.” She wiped away a fake tear. “I’ve never been prouder to have you as our captain, Captain.”

“Shut up!” Veronica laughed, pushing Betty gently on the arm, but she had to admit even she was getting swept up in the excitement. It was a pretty big thing, and she hadn’t felt able to share it with anyone. It was for that reason that secrets sucked and sharing rocked and all three of them grinned like idiots.

Betty calmed first, the smile never leaving her face but the levity was replaced by curiosity. “Seriously though, what was it like?” Martha nodded vehemently at her words, leaning in slightly with eyes impossibly even wider than before.

The question forced a thousand feelings and memories to the forefront of Veronica’s mind, and every one of them made her smile more sinfully than the last. She didn’t know she was biting her lip until a loud gasp brought her back to reality. Her friends’ mouths were hanging open in wonderment.

“It was that good?”

“It was…” there weren’t enough words in the English language to describe it. “…very.”

Betty and Martha erupted into giggles. “Wow.”

After that, it was a free for all. Question after question was fired at her until Veronica could barely keep up, and keeping a lid on saying ‘she’ rather than more vague terminology became increasingly difficult. It wasn’t that her friends didn’t know about her proclivities. She liked girls and she liked boys. Betty and Martha had known that almost as long as Veronica had. Longer even if you believed Martha. It was more that she was worried about giving too much away.

Not only would Heather no doubt kill her if she told people, but Veronica was also all too aware that the Heathers weren’t exactly Martha’s favourite people. Especially after Veronica had told the truth about the letter from ‘Ram’.

The potential for the whole situation to blow up in Veronica’s face had crossed her mind a few times. And yet… how could she stay away?

“So, what was wrong before?”

Veronica frowned quizzically.

“Before, when we were watching the movie. You seemed upset about something.” Martha had that concerned crease in her brow again.

Veronica sighed. “It was nothing. Just… Things have been a little different between me and Captain Roberts lately.” In Veronica’s obvious reluctance to name her ‘ _secret_ _lover’_ as Betty so dreamily put it, Martha had assigned a code name. Her choice shouldn’t have been surprising, but it had elicited a groan from the other two girls none the less. “It’s weird. It’s like they’re freaking out and I don’t know what to do.”

“You can’t let yourselves drift apart!” Betty cried desperately as she hugged a pillow. They may or may not have gotten a little carried away in it all. The mystery. The romance. And Veronica may have exaggerated some details for dramatic story telling effect.

“You grab that sexy masked Dread Pirate, and you kiss them! Then they’ll know how you feel and you can live…” Martha stopped before she got ahead of herself, sheepish.

Veronica chuckled. “Happily ever after?”

“I may have had too much sugar.” Martha admitted.

Hopped up on sugar on not, she was kind of right. Maybe Veronica just had to take charge a little. She could do that. Maybe at the party tonight. At least there was going to be a lot of alcohol so-

Oh God, the party!

She instantly looked to the clock and cringed. “Heather’s gonna _kill_ me!” Racing desperately round the room to collect her things, Veronica barely managed to remember to throw her arms around her friends before racing out the door.

“Thanks guys! I gotta motor, but I’ll remember what you said!” She squeezed them in a hug that they returned eagerly. She was almost tempted to invite them to the party, but after the way things had gone last time she thought they would all agree that that maybe wasn’t the best idea.

They waved as she reached the door, and smiled earnestly.

“Have fun flying with the eagles.”  


* * *

  
Brody Zellarman’s house was huge. Not as big as Heather McNamara’s – Veronica didn’t think she’d ever seen a house as big as the McNamaras’ - but his parents were definitely doing well for themselves. Even so, the party was still spilling outside and already in full swing. The music could be heard down the street, some kids were on the roof and one was outside puking on the lawn.

All part of a typical Saturday night when you were popular.

Inside the throngs of people seemed endless, but Veronica only had to look for the small gap to find the Heathers. Everyone had afforded them their personal space and God forgive anyone who breached it without their say so. They’d brought a couple of boys from the football team into it to dance with, but the second Chandler spotted her she dropped hers, a face like thunder. The other Heathers saw her making her way over and followed suit, the boys quickly lost amongst the masses.

“You’re late.” Heather said.

“I’m… fashionably late?” Veronica tried, with a forced, guilty smile.

Heather was unmoved. “No. _We_ were fashionably late. You’re just late. And _you_ don’t do _anything_ fashionably.”

“Touché.” Scratching the back of her neck awkwardly, Veronica shrugged. “I’m sorry. I got caught up.”

Stony eyes softened a little. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Heather said, and her hand twitched as if she was about to grab Veronica’s as she had recently been wont to do, and lead her back to their spot on the makeshift dancefloor. But then her eyes shifted to Duke, and her hand fell back to her side as she strode off, while the rest of them followed.

They went back to dancing, and Heather was quick to pluck another random boy from the crowd where she would normally be happy to dance alone; intimidating, and beautiful, and so untouchable. Veronica danced intermittently with boys who made eyes at her, and with McNamara and Duke. It was fun. But she couldn’t help but feel like she missed Chandler, even with her dancing right beside her.

She barely spared her a glance.

“Everyone!” Ram came in shouting, a severely drunk Kurt on his back. “Josh is gonna jump from the roof to the pool!”

There was a moment of collective silence, followed by a roar of movement as everyone rushed out the double doors to the back yard. The Heathers of course, never rushed, but they carved their way through, pushing whoever was stupid enough to remain in their way until they had the best vantage spot of the stupidity that was about to happen.

Josh from the football team was posing on the roof in his underwear. Veronica recognised him as the guy Heather had been dancing with earlier. People clapped and cheered, and when the chanting started, “Josh, Josh, Josh,” he jumped, cannonballing into the water with an almighty splash. Kids began diving in from the side of the pool after him, fully clothed. Everyone else just cheered.

“Who’s next!?” Ram hollered sliding Kurt off his back, who wobbled on his feet but managed to stay upright.

Josh pulled himself out of the pool. “It’s my pick!” He surveyed the crowd, who had gone quiet but for the hum of quiet, excited muttering.

Veronica raised a brow and leaned towards the Heathers. “What’s going on?”

“Truth or dare. Kurt did a keg stand, Ram gave Heather a strip tease,” McNamara glanced at Duke with a giggle, “and Kelly Kramer admitted to having sex in the school library. I lost track after that. But that jump must have been Josh’s dare, so it’s his pick now.” She grinned mischievously, while somehow managing to hide slightly behind Chandler so she wouldn’t get picked.

Josh was pointing a finger, waving it round and passing over person after person theatrically. Until finally, he swung round, pointing directly across from him. Across the pool, and right towards the spot Veronica was attempting to step away from. It was no use, his finger followed her.

“Veronica Sawyer! You’re always fun at parties.” He said with a smirk, eliciting a few chuckles.

Veronica had a really, _really_ , bad feeling about this.

“Truth or dare?”

Her heart rate proceeded to kick into overdrive as she released a nervous laugh. McNamara and Duke were laughing too, though less with nerves and more at finding the whole situation hilarious. Meanwhile Chandler was giving her a dangerous look that said ‘ _If you pick truth and give anything away I will actually drown you in that pool over there’_.

She had expressive eyes.

“Uhm, dare?” That was safer, right?

She thought at least, until she saw Kurt lean over to Josh and whisper something in his ear. Josh’s eyes lit up, and Kurt and Ram touched knuckles in a way that really didn’t comfort Veronica. They all beamed, stupid and a little lecherous.

Josh pointed. “I dare you to make out with a Heather-“

“With tongues!” Kurt interjected loudly.

“With tongues.” Josh nodded, chortling. “For at least 30 seconds!”

So much for being safer. Veronica knew she should feel bad about the whole thing. She hated being right sometimes.

The chanting started, “Kiss, kiss, kiss”, as Veronica turned to look at the three Heathers nervously. McNamara was still giggling, while Duke rolled her eyes but didn’t look too bothered. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. McNamara had kissed Duke once at a party, and Chandler had kissed Kelly Kramer during a game of spin the bottle. Obviously, gay stuff was okay if it was an alcohol fuelled joke and for some guy’s amusement.

But now Heather looked almost angry. Like she would be furious if Veronica kissed her right now. Or like she would be furious if she didn’t. It was hard to tell amidst the conflict of emotions playing on Heather’s face, but maybe it was a little of both.

Either way, it was impossible to know how she would react.

McNamara was the safest option. She would laugh and kiss back and then laugh some more, albeit shier than before. Duke would maybe go with it, or maybe punch her. And Chandler? God, Veronica really wanted to kiss her.

And that’s what Martha had told her to do. Just grab her and kiss her. Show her how you feel.

But what if Heather didn’t feel the same?

The chanting was maybe going to Veronica’s head.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss”.

Even as she leaned in, she still wasn’t entirely sure she’d made a conscious decision.

She was going to kiss a Heather.

She just really wasn’t sure which one.  


* * *

  
_-Dear Diary: I’m starting to think parties and I really shouldn’t mix.-_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love a cliffhanger?
> 
> So it's been a little while sorry about that. Chapter got finished a few days ago but I'm on a camping holiday atm so wifi has been difficult to come by. Anyway, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think, my dudes. :)
> 
> Also, thanks to my lil sister Caitlin, (who is annoyingly taller than me) for reading through and actually helping me edit for once in my life, as well as just for being generally awesome and supportive. xx Love ya sis.


	9. Homies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac is the cutest. Chandler is Chandler. And where the hell is Duke?

It should be noted that wandering alone, drunk and aimless after a party was something Veronica really didn’t want to become a pattern. But this was the second time now and she worried it might be habit forming.

The night was mercifully cool, after the heat of the party. Cool and dark and altogether a little depressing. Would it be too much to ask to go to a party and have everything just be normal and fun? No drama. No fights. No stupid dares that messed everything up. 

Apparently, the cosmic joke that was her life disagreed.

“Veronica! Come on, get in!”

Veronica turned to see Heather McNamara behind the steering wheel of Heather Duke’s jeep, waving at her with urgency. As far as Veronica was aware, Heather couldn’t drive. Both Duke and Chandler had said she was the worst driver the world had ever seen and it would take a lot of money and a miracle for her to ever pass her test. Which, considering the other Heather’s driving, was quite frankly terrifying.

“Heather, what are you doing? Does Heather know you have her jeep?”

McNamara looked little sheepish. “I’m helping you! And… not exactly. But I’m sure she won’t mind me borrowing it.” She shrugged, and stifled a small laugh that was far too full of mischief to be innocent. “This is fun!”

“Does anyone actually follow road laws around here?” Veronica shook her head as she got in. If she was going to die in a fiery car crash she’s sure it would have happened by now. Besides, the whole night was already kind of a train wreck. It was hardly like a trip to the police station was going to make it much worse at this point. Or the hospital.

“Oh, no. They’re more like guidelines anyway right?”

Veronica sighed. Shuddering to life, the car lurched forward and then stopped. Then started again, this time with a screech as it pulled away suddenly onto the wrong side of the road. It was too tiring to be scared at this point; life endangering terrible drivers were just a part of life now.

But Heather McNamara was by far the worst.

“I have a feeling Heather might mind if you destroy her baby.” Veronica warned, but restrained a smile at the thought of Duke’s reaction. Heather’s chest shook with laughter too, and it made the night feel not so horrible.

“I’m sure she won’t notice because she’s all busy with Josh,” Heather insisted.

The car jolted a lot, but she didn’t seem too worried aside from the occasional “Oops”. Other than that, the petite girl was uncharacteristically quiet. A small comment here, or a little gossip there, but otherwise she refrained from talking about the events of the party. Veronica was grateful, but it also meant it left her with a lot of time to run everything over in her head a thousand times.

“Do you think Heather’s still angry?”

McNamara turned, completely looking away from the road to answer. She nodded with a nonchalant expression. “Definitely.”

Veronica groaned.

“Don’t worry though, I have a feeling she won’t stay mad at you for long.” The words were tinged with a mischief that Veronica didn’t trust for a single second. One look at the other girl quickly supported her theory. She was biting her lip to hide a smile, but her eyes were alight with amusement.

“Heather, why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason.”

“Heather…”

Veronica stared her down seriously, and finally, she relented, rolling her eyes with a smile.  “Alright, jeeze… I know you and Heather are _‘hanging out’.”_ She tried and failed to restrain a laugh, saying the word like it needed air quotes around it. “But it’s okay. I’m not gonna tell anyone. I think it’s exciting!”

With her heart pounding in her ears, Veronica really hoped she’d imagined the last five seconds.

“What?” She laughed nervously. She was vaguely aware of snorting completely overdramatically at the same time. “That’s… ridiculous. And completely unlikely. I mean could you imagine?” More fake laughter. She was actually struggling to stop. “That’s just…. It’s just…” The laughter died under the pressure of McNamara’s unconvinced expression.

Shoulders sagging, Veronica frowned. “Is it obvious?”

“To anyone with eyes.”

A thud sounded throughout the jeep as Veronica let her head drop against the dashboard with a load groan.

“I’m kidding!” McNamara had the gall to giggle when Veronica glared. “I only figured it out after your dare.”

That didn’t particularly comfort her. If anyone else had figured it out, Heather might never speak to her again just to prove them wrong.

_-Dear Diary, I am so never playing truth or dare ever again.-_  
  


* * *

 

__  
(2 hours Earlier, Before a Potentially Deadly Dare)  
=====================

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

The noise was almost deafening. Too loud for Veronica to even hear herself think. Her eyes were glancing between each girl before her in panic.

Chandler was all golden curls and high cheekbones. Red lips and pale skin. She was so stunning it made Veronica’s heart ache, and so panicked too. Her silvery eyes were afire.

Duke was all dark hair and dark eyes. Her expression a mix between disgusted and annoyed that by now felt so familiar it was almost calming in the crazed atmosphere.

McNamara was all sunny smiles and warmth. Blonde and bright and the living embodiment of a hug.

Heather, Heather and Heather.

And Veronica was about to kiss one.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Veronica leaned in.

And all she saw was yellow.

Smiling coyly, Heather McNamara closed her eyes and waited for her kiss while Chandler and Duke looked on. Veronica couldn’t see how either of them reacted. In truth, she was too scared to look. So, she didn’t, and instead let her own eyes close as she neared her chosen Heather’s lips.

Subconsciously, she had done the maths. This was the safest route. The easiest. The one least likely to end up with her being pushed in the pool.

Consciously, she hadn’t had time to think at all.

So, she went for it. And for the briefest of seconds, everything went according to plan.

Like the rest of her, Heather McNamara’s lips were soft and warm. She smelled like candy, and it wasn’t a surprise at all.

The only surprising thing of all of it was the second after the first, when things quickly turned sideways.

Or Veronica was literally pulled sideways.

The force was sudden, wheeling her round and dragging her forward by collar. It made her eyes open.

And all she saw was red.

Vaguely, she heard Josh exclaim “Holy shit!”, and the associated hooting and hollering that came from a bunch of guys getting to witness the one of their greatest fantasies come to life. None of that was at the forefront of Veronica’s mind. She was wholly focused on Heather Chandler’s lips on her own, and like always, she melted.

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5…” The chanting started. Veronica quickly lost count.

Heather’s familiar perfume washed over Veronica, and all she could think was that she’d missed being so close to her. It had only been days, but it had felt like an eternity with all her stupid gay feelings clouding her senses. If her brain was a TV, Heather was on every damn channel and most pitiful of all, she wasn’t even sick of watching.  

Heather wrapped her arms round her back and pulled her in even closer, their bodies moulded together and more than anything Veronica wanted to be closer still.

The kiss was furious and intense. Every ounce of the anger that had been in Heather’s eyes was poured into it, along with every ounce of feeling between them and God was it good. Heather Chandler was one hell of a good kisser.

Were people still counting? It was difficult for Veronica to tune her hearing into anything but Heather FM, but after a moment of trying it became clear that the counting had stopped.

Veronica pulled back, and Heather slowly opened her eyes, blinking like she’d forgotten where they were. She looked around, at the mix of expressions painted on the faces of everyone surrounding them.

Almost everyone was smiling, or snickering. Some were clearly surprised. Others titillated.  Josh, Ram and Kurt looked like every Christmas had come at once.

God, how long had the count been finished for?

Veronica noted the tiniest fraction that Heather’s eyes widened, and the smallest amount of pink that coloured her cheeks. Half a second later, she regained herself with all the poise of a professional actress, and it was awe-inspiring to watch.

“Thought I’d give you what you really wanted to see.” She smirked wickedly, arrogant and so beautiful. “Don’t say I never give you losers anything.”

Everyone laughed. She sauntered round the edge of the pool and all eyes followed her. She was like a conductor, the whole school her orchestra and she knew exactly how to have every single instrument playing precisely as she wanted.

“And since I benevolently took Ronnie’s dare out of her hands, I guess that makes it my pick…”

And just like that, a moment that could have been supremely awkward became a footnote. Just another dare. A gossiping point, as humorous as Kelly Kramer’s admission or Josh’s jump in the pool. Nothing serious. Nothing more dangerous.

Like always, Heather Chandler had to be the centre of attention. Everyone would believe that’s all it was.

Veronica hoped.  
  


* * *

 

 Heather had been ignoring her. Veronica hadn’t managed to catch her eyes once since that stupid dare because her grey eyes had been steadfastly fixed to the bottom of a bottle for most of the night.

She drank and she danced, and Veronica followed the movement of her hips, and the way her lips moved as she whispered close to Kurt’s ear. He was practically salivating at the way she leaned against him, teasing and playful. Completely in control.

It was laughable, the way Veronica’s heart sank and her chest clenched like she couldn’t breathe. It was a sickness, swirling in her stomach and poisoning her with jealousy and she knew Heather saw it. She never looked, not once, but she had to know what she was doing.

Eventually Veronica stopped watching. If Heather wanted to be childish and immature then she could be, and Veronica would just find somewhere to sit and sulk like an adult.

She hated that it made her eyes sting. It’s not like Heather was her girlfriend. They were just messing around together. What did it matter if Heather was flirting with those idiots? Who cared if she let them kiss her, or took one upstairs to fuck?

Not Veronica, that’s who.

As she fought back her stupid, useless tears it was obvious it didn’t matter to her one bit.

“Veronica, you need to come quick, Heather- Woah, are you okay?” Heather McNamara came racing to a halt in front of the table Veronica was slouched at. She eyed a boy who had passed out next to her, head slumped forward on his arm, before glancing back at Veronica with concern. “What are you doing, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh y’know, just having a _swell_ time.” She raised her glass and shook it for emphasis, and frowned when she noticed it was empty.

Heather looked at her with something like sympathy, before a nervous grimace crossed her face.

“Well that’s nice.” She said unsurely.  “But I think Heather needs our help.”

“Which one?”

“ _Heather_ Heather. She went upstairs with Kurt.”

Veronica felt her stomach twist again, and bit her lip hard to try and ignore it. “That doesn’t sound that urgent.”

McNamara shook her head. “He’s _really_ drunk. And then Ram followed them, but I don’t think Heather knows.”

This time the twist in Veronica’s stomach was for altogether different reasons. Her heart lurched in fear, and when she stood up she stumbled but ploughed forward regardless. Following closely, McNamara trailed up the stairs behind Veronica with a nervous energy that made it clear she had been too afraid to confront Ram and Kurt herself.

“Where’s Heather Duke?” Veronica asked hurriedly.

“With Josh somewhere. I was going to look for her if I couldn’t find you.”

Veronica didn’t bother to ask why she had been the first choice to help, or why Heather had known Veronica would rush to help. She was too busy pushing open every bedroom door she came across. A few startled teenagers shouted at her, but she barrelled on until finally Veronica burst through a door and saw Heather, pushed up against the far wall. She was trapped between Ram and Kurt, their eyes half closed and their words slurred as they goaded her.

“ _Come on_ , Heather. We’re getting like… major blue balls here.” Kurt mumbled, his arm around Heather’s waist.

“Yeah, you’ve been teasing all night.” Ram whined. “We know that thing downstairs was for us.”

“Get the hell off me, balls-for-brains. That _thing_ downstairs was a dare, or are you two idiots too drunk to remember what that is?” Heather gave a forceful shove, but as she pulled away to brush past them, Kurt grabbed her wrist and fell to his knees pathetically.

“Pleeeaase? You’re causing physical pain in my area.”

Heather looked furious, and Veronica saw red.

“Let go of her, right now!” Her voice sounded more commanding than she expected, and Kurt let go of Heather’s arm with a confused expression, before smiling dumbly.

“Hey Ronica.” Ram rolled the R, his brows dancing in a way he obviously thought might be appealing.

He was wrong.

Shaking her head and clutching her fists, Veronica could barely summon words adequate to describe her fury. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ram grinned. “Is this like, gonna be a group thing? Cause I’m so down for that.”

The heavy thud of the punch reverberated round the room, and Veronica looked a little proud of herself as Ram stumbled back. Even as she rubbed at her hand, gritting her teeth.

Holy hell that hurt. They make it look so easy in the movies.

It probably didn’t help that Veronica hadn’t been in a physical fight since first grade, when a kid stole her toy and she cried. It wasn’t until the kid took Martha and Betty’s toys too that she kicked him in the shins to get them back.

Shocked silence held the room, and Heather’s gaze met Veronica’s. Fury was still evident in Heather’s eyes. “What the hell was that?”

“I was helping.”

“Helping?” Heather narrowed her eyes, cocking her hip. “I have everyone at school under my thumb and you think I need _help_ controlling these idiots? They don’t share a brain cell between them.” She shot them a disparaging look. “And they’ll fall down drunk any second.”

“I’m sorry! I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.” Veronica shrugged, crossing her arms defensively. Also, because her fist was still hurting.

Pausing in her wrath, Heather blinked, and her anger seemed to dissipate. A whirlwind of emotion seemed to grip her, swirling in her grey eyes until she shut them tight. Almost as if she knew how much they gave her away. Rubbing at her temples, she sighed.

“I can handle Ram and Kurt. They’re not like…” She trailed off, but it was clear she was thinking of Remington. “I can handle Ram and Kurt.” She repeated. It wasn’t angry. It was something to say instead of thank you, which Heather was far too proud for.

And she was probably right. She didn’t look too shaken, or scared. Ram and Kurt were pushy, and obnoxious and completely out of line, but Heather had never had problems controlling them before. As dead drunk as they were, they looked more pathetic than dangerous. Heather had probably been through this song and dance already more times than she could count.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Veronica said. “It’s just that when Heather said-“

Suddenly, the atmosphere turned cold. Heather whirled on her, a warning look in her eyes.

“ _Which_ Heather?”

All eyes went to Heather McNamara, who was standing timidly in the doorway. Under expectant stares, she took a wary step into the room but stayed tight behind Veronica as if to keep a wall between herself and the blonde who was staring her down.

Chandler scowled at their closeness. Her eyes followed the movement like she was watching someone urinate in her locker, lip twitching in rage. Then after a deep breath, she smiled coldly, and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Well, maybe _Heather_ should keep out of other people’s business. Maybe _Heather,_ ” she took a step forward and McNamara shrank, “should know her place.”

The turnaround was so sudden it felt whiplash inducing. Heather Chandler was like the ocean; calm and beautiful, until movements beneath the surface had a sudden wave toppling your boat.

“Hey, this is not her fault.”

Chandler laughed mirthlessly. “ _Of course_ you’re defending her. What are you two? Do you _hang out_ now?”

“What are you talking about? We all hang out!” Veronica retorted, baffled as to where the sudden change in mood had come from.

Right up until it hit her.

_-Dear Diary, Heather Chandler is jealous. HOLY SHIT!-_

Veronica almost managed to hide the smile that fought its way onto her face, but Heather caught it and seethed. Cheeks reddening slightly, she stormed out of the room, maintaining as much dignity and grace as possible while invoking the awe-striking likeness of a tornado.

The door slammed behind her.

Quiet engulfed the room once more, but for Ram, who was still moaning and rubbing his cheek with a puzzled expression.

“Oh, shit bro! Veronica totally kicked your ass!” Kurt – who Veronica thought had fallen asleep on the floor up until that point – laughed.

“Did not!” Ram replied stubbornly.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

They fumbled, scrapping on their knees as if nothing bad had almost happened at all. In their eyes, it probably hadn’t and the thought of it made Veronica want to punch them both even harder.

With a roll of the eyes, she started to leave, but Kurt’s attention quickly turned from his scuffle. “Wait! What about our relief? It isn’t healthy to bottle it up. We could die!”

“Great,” she answered as she swung the door open once more.

McNamara had been joined by Heather Duke, Josh at her side, and a few others who had obviously been drawn by the commotion. They watched her leave, and race down the stairs but said nothing.

Veronica reached the front door just in time to see Chandler’s Porsche tearing off down the street.   


* * *

 

  
_(The Present, After Another Disastrous Party)_

=========================================

“Does Duke know?” Veronica asked.

McNamara squinted and twisted her mouth unsurely. “I don’t think so. Why would she?”

“She’s been dropping some pretty big hints.”

“Oh.” The girl in yellow grimaced. “That could be bad.”

“You don’t think… she would tell people, do you?”

Their eyes met, worried and unconvinced by the small amount of hope that maybe Heather Duke would keep such a secret.  McNamara glanced back at the road, swerving back into her lane.

“I don’t know, Ronnie. We’re all friends but… Heather isn’t that nice to her.”

“I’ve noticed.” Veronica wasn’t entirely sure what the issue was between Duke and Chandler, but whatever it was, it didn’t make for the most conventional of friendships. Sometimes, they seemed close – usually when they were working together to torture some poor, fashion challenged kid at school – but then other times, it felt more like they were enemies.

It wasn’t exactly reassuring. Their secret had the power to bring Chandler’s reign crumbling down, and if Heather Duke had the motivation to do it…

Veronica gulped, and focused on the road.

It was only then she noticed where they were.

“Please tell me we’re not heading to Heather’s house.”

McNamara bit her lip, eyes widening. She turned with an innocent look, and said, “we’re not heading to Heather’s house.”

The road they were on so totally lead to Heather’s house.

“Heather!”

“I’m sorry! I just want you both to make up!” She looked so earnest it hurt. “Having you two fighting is _so_ un-very. And… it was my fault you argued.” She seemed to shrink in on herself a little, like she tended to do, and Veronica couldn’t be mad.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, it was.” She said solemnly. She seemed serious but for a small twinkle in her eye. “I’m very kissable.”

They pulled up outside the Chandlers’ house and Veronica felt a stone of dread settle in her stomach. Yet part of her tingled with anticipation.

“What do I even say?”

“Tell her her face is very symmetrical. She likes that. And maybe kiss her.” Heather smiled the closest thing to a smirk she could manage. “She probably likes that too.”

With a snort, Veronica climbed out the car.

“Well here goes nothing. Thanks Heather.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’re homies.” One awkward, incredibly white hand gesture later, Heather pulled away. The car jerked forward once more, before she disappeared down the street at little faster than a snail’s pace. At least Veronica didn’t have to worry about her being involved in a high-speed collision any time soon.

Veronica was already half way up the tree outside Heather’s house before she remembered how tough climbing it had been first time. Too far up to bother going back down. During the ascent, she had time to run through the thousand and one things she might say to Heather once she reached the top.

_I’m sorry I was late._

_I’m sorry you’ve been stressing over Duke._

_I’m sorry I kissed Mac._

_I’m sorry I misjudged the whole situation with Ram and Kurt._

_I’m sorry I totally enjoyed punching Ram._

But when the window swung open, and Heather turned to face her, her mind unhelpfully blanked. Standing from where she had been sat at her vanity, brushing through her curls, Heather frowned. She crossed her arms, and Veronica knew she was in trouble.

“What do you want?”

The tension in the air was palpable. Heather’s frown only deepened the longer she waited for Veronica to speak.

Sticking the landing this time as she clambered through the window, Veronica tried to reply. Stood there under the scrutiny of Heather’s intense eyes however, no words came.

“Did you hit your head on your way over here? What is your damage?”

For the longest moment, Veronica worried she might stand there like a brain-dead zombie for the rest of the night.

Then suddenly, Martha, like a fairy godmother came to her, speaking words of wisdom; _“You grab that sexy masked Dread Pirate, and you kiss them! Then they’ll know how you feel…”_

So Veronica did the only thing she could think of.

She took charge.

The kiss was sudden, and Heather seemed shocked at first. But it only took half a second for her to respond. Though it had only been a few days since they had last made out, it was a few days longer than Veronica ever wanted to wait again. And from the way Heather gripped her so tightly, it seemed like the feeling was reciprocal.

Heather was wearing her robe again. The robe that had played a starring role in many of Veronica’s fantasies since their night together.

And whether it was the alcohol she had drunk, or the memory of what had happened the last time she had crept through Heather’s window, Veronica was suddenly overcome by fire.

“The bed.” Veronica mumbled against Heather’s lips. “On the bed. Now.”

“Excuse me?” Heather barely had time to reply before a surprised cry escaped her lips as she was pushed backwards on her mattress. “What the fuck?” She muttered, affronted at not being the one in control. She gave no protest however when Veronica climbed onto her lap and fixed their lips together once more.

Pulling back enough to pull Heather’s robe open, Heather watched her with lust and indignation warring on her perfect features.

“If you think you can just-“ Her words trailed off into a moan as Veronica sucked at the skin on her neck, her hands clawing tight at Veronica’s scalp to keep her close. “You are so not being on top.” The usual command in her voice was undermined by the whimper that followed as Veronica’s hand wandered, finally reaching its destination between her thighs.

After that, Heather had little to say except _yes_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't super sure about this chapter for some reason. Some things I liked, others I didn't. But I'm nothing if not a lazy bitch so I posted anyway. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway. Let me know!
> 
> I haven't read it through myself but my sister Caitlin was beta once again. So basically if it sucks blame her. (Just kidding, Caitlinface).


	10. Seeing The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before.

“Stop. Fucking. Kicking me.” Came an annoyed, sleep addled grumble from beside Veronica. It woke her up. She scrunched her eyes tight before opening them to a mass of blonde hair, and for the first couple of seconds following, the world made no sense at all.

“Huh?” She grunted, confused.

“If you kick me one more time, I’ll smother you with my pillow.”

This time, Veronica recognised Heather’s voice, and everything clicked into place. The other girl was completely in her personal space. Veronica couldn’t help but smile, and wonder how she would react to being pulled even closer, but managed to restrain the urge. Somehow, she wasn’t sure Heather Chandler would be a fan of post-coital, morning cuddles.

But then, like always, Heather surprised her.  Suddenly turning on her side, Heather snuggled in tight against Veronica, burying her head in the crook of her neck without ever even opening her eyes.

“Don’t even fucking speak.” She grumbled again, lips brushing Veronica’s neck in a way that sparked a hundred pleasant memories from the night before. So Veronica didn’t speak. She simply let herself fall back to sleep, with Heather curled into her side, and a feeling overwhelming her chest too strong to dare put a name to.

When she woke again, Heather was up, pacing the room in an impractically short red nightdress. Veronica watched her for a moment, captivated.

Because damn, her legs really did go on for days.

“Where the hell did you throw my bra, Ronnie?” Heather asked with a glare.

For the first time, Veronica didn’t mind the nickname. Martha and Betty had called her it on occasion, and recently Mac had thrown it out once or twice. But from Heather it had always sounded mocking. Now, it felt almost affectionate. A small intimacy Heather would never allow for anyone else.

“I wasn’t exactly aiming for anywhere in particular.”

Heather rolled her eyes, seating herself on the end of the bed with a sigh. It was the first moment Veronica realised something was off. Staring at the far wall with an odd twist to her lips, and colour in her cheeks, Heather refused to meet her gaze.

Veronica frowned. “Is everything okay? Mysterious vanishing bra aside.”  

She waited a few moments, but no answer came.

“Heather?”

 “God Veronica, do you always have to care so much?” Heather snapped, but with none of her usual venom. It was half-hearted at best, especially with her eyes still trained on the far wall.

“I guess, yeah.”

How had they gone from morning cuddles to this? The speed with which things could change between them was whiplash inducing. And considering the very real risk of actual whiplash that reared its head every time she got in a car with the other girl, Veronica really didn’t need the emotional equivalent too.

“Well it’s annoying.” Heather said. She was toying with the edge of her nightdress, and chewing on her lip, deep in thought. If Veronica didn’t know any better, she would have said that the demon queen herself was… nervous?

Shuffling awkwardly, she sat herself on the edge of the bed too, with just enough space between them that she could slip her hand against Heather’s own. At first the other girl almost flinched, but then she settled, and let their fingers lace. Eyeing their entwined hands, she released her lip from its cage between her teeth.

And finally, Heather raised her eyes.

Their gaze was heavy beneath all the things Heather clearly wanted to say but wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.    

It took a moment, but the tension started to slowly roll off her in waves, until eventually she spoke. “Your hair looks like shit.”

Veronica couldn’t resist the smile that it drew from her, and it only grew when Heather’s own lips quirked upward too.

_God she’s beautiful_ , Veronica thought. That much was obvious of course, but Veronica couldn’t help but think she was especially breath-taking in that moment, with a genuine smile lighting up her whole face, and a depth of feeling in her eyes that everyone at school would never imagine she was capable of.

“You say the sweetest things.”

Heather scoffed, the confusing tension from moments before seemingly forgotten. “If you want sweet you’re fucking the wrong Heather.”

The second the words left her mouth, they both cringed.

That tension-free millisecond had been nice while it lasted at least.

“Heather…” Veronica tried to broach the topic as gingerly as possible, “you know that there’s nothing going on between me and Mac, right?”

Something close to a frustrated growl rumbled low in Heather’s chest as her grip tightened ever so slightly on Veronica’s hand. “Of course I know that, idiot.”

“Wait, really? Because at the party you were doing a pretty great impression of someone who-“

“I know what I said at the party!” Heather stood suddenly, disentangling their hands. The colour in her cheeks had returned, deeper this time. At first, she seemed at a loss for what to do herself, uncharacteristically awkward, before taking a deep breath and assuming a practiced hand on hip stance that projected far more confidence than she obviously felt.

“Sometimes I get drunk and I say things,” she said dismissively. It seemed like she might leave it at that as the seconds ticked by without her saying any more, until she sighed and continued. “I’ve never done… _this_ , before.” She waved her hand between them. “I don’t wake up next to someone. Ever. So, do you seriously think I would have let you stay here if I actually thought you were screwing my best friend?”

Veronica stared, dumbly. Heather said everything so casual and curt, as if she hadn’t just given away so much. But she had.

For one thing, Veronica had never heard Heather ever refer to McNamara as her best friend before. Sometimes it was easy to believe the other Heathers were barely her friends at all, but rather minions who followed her round and did as they were told. Which they were, and they did. But it was obvious from the surety in Heather’s voice that she valued them as friends too.

Not that she would ever say that to their faces, Veronica was sure.

But the more important revelation was the first, the reason for her nerves and sudden vulnerability. And it triggered an event so earth-shattering in Veronica’s body that it was all she could do to write about it later that night.

_-Dear Diary, I am in so Goddamn deep. -_

It had occurred to her before, briefly and easy to dismiss. When she first held Heather’s hand. Or in one of their kisses. Or in the countless ways she had imagined she could destroy whoever had hurt Heather at that frat party.

But in that moment, with Heather standing there almost nervous and embarrassed, telling her she was the first person to ever share the night with her and have the privilege of sharing her morning too, Veronica could feel her heart clenching so violently she could almost mistake it for…

No.

She couldn’t even think the word. Not when it would change everything. But God if she couldn’t feel it thundering in her chest and pounding in her head like it wanted so desperately to be released from her throat and whispered in Heather’s ear.

But the vulnerability that Heather had been trying so desperately to hide let her know she wasn’t alone. And for now, that was enough.

With a carefully controlled breath, she tried to calm the electricity coursing through her veins, and steady her voice. “Then…” She failed, and her voice broke. She tried again. “Then why were you so mad?”

Heather looked at her like she was stupid. “Do I look like someone who shares? She kissed you.”

“Technically, I kissed her.”

The way Heather narrowed her eyes made it clear that was an unnecessarily dangerous distinction to make.

“The point is, Veronica, that people shouldn’t touch what isn’t theirs. Or more accurately, they shouldn’t stick their tongue down the throat of what’s _mine_.”

“There was no tongue!” Veronica retorted, desperately. Heather simply scowled.

Somewhere in the logical side of Veronica’s brain, she knew she should be offended at being talked about like a piece of Heather’s property. _People don’t belong to people_ , she would have said, if her lady balls weren’t being crushed in a vice-grip somewhere between the anger and the hurt in Heather’s eyes.

And though she would never admit it out loud, there was some small part of her that basked in the glow of being Heather’s. Of belonging. Because deep down she knew it wasn’t about ownership. It was about Heather being tremendously bad at expressing any kind of feelings and explaining them the only way she knew how.

Technicality and word choice didn’t seem so important in the face of Heather caring that much.

So maybe she was Heather’s. Maybe it didn’t seem so much to hope that Heather was hers too.

Standing, the distance between them was closed in a heartbeat, and Heather’s lips on hers felt like the same as before and yet more too. It felt like crossing some kind of boundary. It felt like stepping from a ledge into the unknown, terrifying and exhilarating and enough to stop your heart.

It felt really, really gay.

The curtains were drawn and the room was dim, but when they separated, and their eyes met, Veronica was sure she could see the sun.

Heather frowned. “Why do you always look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” She struggled for words, but Veronica could read the questions on her face.

_Like you see me? Like you care so much? Like you love me?_

 Heather growled again. “Forget it.”

The laughter that bubbled in her chest was smothered by Heather’s lips on hers once more, fierce and insistent. Hands quickly found their way under the nightdress Heather had loaned her, which was around 5 times too short to ever be comfortable, and her heart set to racing.

Reluctantly, Veronica pulled away. “Don’t we have croquet with Heathers 2 and 3 today?”

“Fuck.” Heather pouted, and Veronica’s heart did a whole gymnastic routine in her chest. Then suddenly, grey eyes widened in something resembling fear. “What if they figured it out? After I kissed you? Heather isn’t stupid. If she didn’t know before, she does now and the bitch is gonna try and crucify me. She’s always wanted to be queen.”

Veronica grimaced awkwardly.

Catching it, Heather narrowed her eyes with no small amount of threat. “Spill. Now.”

“Mac kind of… told me she worked it out.” She really wished she had somewhere to hide for the impending explosion. “But she doesn’t think Duke knows! So that’s something…”

There was no explosion.

Instead, Heather fell utterly silent. Jaw twitching, lips a hard line, she looked more terrified than Veronica had ever seen her.

“Hey,” Veronica hooked a finger under Heather’s chin and gently raised her head so the other girl would meet her eyes, “she won’t tell anyone.”

“You don’t know that.” There was a glassy quality to her eyes that spoke volumes. “I am _not_ ending up like Rachel Carter.”

No. Even Veronica shuddered at the thought of that. Being the only openly gay girl in senior year hadn’t been the best of times for Rachel up until now, and everyone knew it.

Veronica tried what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “It won’t happen like that. Heather won’t say anything. Besides, Rachel made things worse for herself when she started making up stories and spreading rumours about other people last year. Not exactly the best way to make friends.”

The silence following was palpable. Heather looked askance.

Then it clicked.

“Holy shit.”

Heather jaw clenched, and she had enough decency to look the tiniest bit guilty.

“They weren’t rumours. You did sleep with her!”

“Shut up, Veronica.”

Veronica continued, unfazed. “And she told everyone, and they thought she was lying. Holy shit!”

“Shut up!”

She ignored her again. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the line, Veronica had completely forgotten to be afraid of Heather Chandler. “Heather, people tortured her all semester. _You_ tortured her!”

“She should have kept her mouth shut!” Heather snapped. “She wanted her fifteen minutes of fame, and she got it. Just not how she thought.” She calmed a little, squaring herself. “If you want to fuck with the Eagles, you’ve gotta learn to fly. She didn’t. It’s not my fault she couldn’t take the heat.”

Staring, open mouthed, Veronica fumbled for something to say when she noticed Heather’s hands shaking. Scared, and defensive. Posturing like she always did.

When did Heather become so transparent to her?

She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry she told people. That was shitty.“

Heather’s lips parted in surprise, clearly having expected further reprimand. “Oh.” She folded her arms tight, which anyone else might have read as a power move of fury or displeasure. But she was protecting herself. Holding herself together so all the broken pieces didn’t come tumbling out.

And fuck what Veronica thought before about not thinking the word because, in that moment it was all she could do not to blurt it out loud.

_“I think I love you.”_

No wait, that was totally out loud.

“What?” Heather asked, eyed wide. The confession had been barely a whisper, but Heather must have at least thought she heard correctly from the alarm in her voice.

Veronica stammered, heart in her throat. “Uh, I said how long have you? I mean, how long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“That you like girls?” Veronica asked, improvising on the spot but also genuinely curious. Heather swallowed nervously, accepting the lie and Veronica hoped her sigh of relief wasn’t audible. Nice save, Sawyer.

Heather’s arms folded even tighter around her body. She raised her brow and shrugged like it was no big deal, but she was still shaking.

Suddenly, now that Veronica’s heart attack was over, another curiosity occurred to her. “Do you even like boys?”

“Obviously!” Heather said sharply. A small crease formed between her brows. “I guess.” She corrected, unsure. Then she shook her head and frowned. “Whatever. If you’re done asking stupid questions, we need to get ready.”

And that was the end of it.

They changed at a leisurely pace, and Heather made a backhanded compliment about her makeup skills improving that beneath the snark sounded genuinely proud. But her hands were still shaking, and Veronica imagined that the fear wouldn’t die until she saw that nothing had changed with Duke and McNamara. That no-one would know.

“Heather really would never tell anyone. I know she’s not the best secret keeper, but this one she’d be careful with. I know it.”

Chandler considered it. “Maybe Heather wouldn’t say anything. But _Heather_ would.”

“You know it’s confusing when you do that right?” Veronica asked, and the blonde simply smiled, amused. “Why are you so sure Duke would try to take you down? She’s your friend.”

Heather levelled an exasperated look at her. “Duh, Veronica. My friend _and_ my biggest rival. Or at least she thinks she is, but she’s not even close to being worthy.” She said, before putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

“Have you ever considered maybe just being nicer to her?”

Heather regarded her with the same look she might have given if someone had wiped their dirty shoes on her bed sheets.

“Nice?” She said the word like it tasted of something disgusting.

“Yeah Heather, nice. It’s what people usually try to be to their friends.”

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, do I look like Mother Theresa? In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t do ‘ _nice’_ ,” she sneered.

Restraining laughter - because really, how was Heather Chandler even a real, functioning human being? - Veronica elaborated. “I’m just saying, if you were nicer maybe she wouldn’t feel like she has a reason to overthrow you.”

Heather blinked, nonplussed. As if the thought had never occurred to her before. A grimace formed on her lips, before she sighed and rolled her eyes, completing her face journey to enlightenment. “I’ll think about it.”

She stood, and Veronica followed suit. When they left the room, onto a lonely landing overlooking an equally empty front room, it occurred to Veronica that she hadn’t even thought to check Heather’s parents weren’t home when she’d snuck in the night before.

Fortunately, as always, Heather’s parents were nowhere to be seen.

“Veronica’s alive!” McNamara announced happily when she saw them arrive, bouncing over like a lamb, on unsteady legs too excitable for its body. She almost went to wrap her arms around Veronica in greeting until she glanced at Chandler and thought better of it.

Duke followed, less enthusiastically, glaring at Mac’s good mood.

“I thought she might have killed you,” she said, looking more than a little disappointed that it wasn’t the case.

McNamara was unmoved by her negativity however. “It looks like things went well last night.”

The words were completely innocent, and Veronica had to hand it to Mac, she was actually a pretty good actress. Anyone who didn’t know exactly what she was really referring to would have likely believed she was genuinely curious about the state of her and Chandler’s friendship.

But the small glimmer of excitement in her eyes, and the tiny lilt of her brow on the side Duke couldn’t see made it clear she was talking about them getting laid.

And Veronica could practically feel Heather stiffen beside her.

“Yeah. All made up.” Veronica answered, desperately wanting to take Heather’s hand and reassure her.

“ _Great_. _So_ great you helped everyone kiss and make up.” Duke muttered. “But I still can’t believe you stole my Jeep to do it!”

“Borrowed! I _borrowed_ the Jeep. And it was in the name of friendship.” McNamara cowered slightly.

After a single glance between Veronica and Chandler, Duke rolled her eyes. “ _Sure_ it was.”

Heather seemed to stop breathing all together.

“SHUT-“ She stopped mid shout, and quickly looked to Veronica with an unsure expression. “Be quiet, Heather,” was what she decided on in the end, and three sets of eyes regarded her with equal amounts of confusion.

Well, it was nicer than ‘shut up’ at least.

Baby steps.                                                                             

 

* * *

 

 

_-Dear Diary, I might be in love with the Demon Queen of High school. And I need to keep her away from any deadly, mechanical, lumber based tools.-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to thank everyone enough for all the support and kind words you've had to offer in my absence. It really means the world. I'm sorry not much happened this chapter but more than anything it was written to try and get me back into the rhythm of writing and posting. Hope it was still enjoyable, none the less!


	11. The Slushie Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica and Heather are just a couple of hot messes and man do they need to DTR.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

 

Heather had a way of reminding Veronica how screwed she was every time she tried to reason with herself that there was no way in hell she could be in love.

Because love? It was a big word. Super scary, crazy intimidating and altogether too much to handle. Much like Heather herself.

Veronica had never been in love, but she always imagined that when it happened, it would be some charming dark knight, swooping into her life atop a noble steed and rescuing her from the evils of high school. Like Jason Dean, picking her up on his motorbike and flipping off every asshole who had a problem with it.

Love would be badass.

Except it wasn’t.

Because somehow, instead of being saved from the evils of high school, she’d fallen for one of them. And as much as she wanted to deny it, the feeling kept biting her on the ass. Especially when Heather did things like frown at the vocab notes Veronica had written out for her, with this cute little crease between her brows that was driving Veronica wild.

“Plethora. Like the plethora of idiots studying right now instead doing something fun. Ugh, and I’m one of them.” She frowned, dropping the notes. The crease between her brows intensified, and Veronica’s chest gave a tight squeeze in response.

“Screw it, I’m done wi-” Heather barely had time to finish the sentence before Veronica took her face in her hands and pressed their lips together. If the speed with which she’d launched herself at the other girl wasn’t embarrassing enough, the possessive way her hands gripped at Heather’s shirt would have been.

Pulling back after a moment, Heather laughed in that way she did, that was half amused, and half mocking. “Jesus Veronica, desperate much?”

“If I say maybe a little, do you promise not to be insufferable about it?” Veronica bit her lip, abashed. It only made Heather laugh in a way that said she would absolutely be insufferable about it.

“Do you even know me at all?” She placed a hand on her chest, as if offended, but her eyes were cruel and mischievous.

Veronica pushed her onto her back and kissed her again before she could say any more - like hell was she letting Heather torture her over this. Not when it was her fault she was acting like a horny, lovestruck teenager.

It had been months since the night of Ram’s party, when she’d first climbed through Heather’s window. Months since she’d somehow lost her virginity to the most intimidatingly beautiful girl at school, and she honestly didn’t know how she’d lasted so long without a repeat performance.

Now that had changed, they had done their very best to make up for lost time.

Heather’s room was where they most frequently met, wrapped up in each other in the middle of her obscenely spacious bed. But Veronica was finding it more and more difficult to keep her hands to herself no matter where they were.

The restroom stalls at school were dangerous, and only used when Heather was wearing a particularly short skirt that rendered Veronica’s brain incapable of rational thought.

Veronica’s writing desk at home was safer, if a little impractical. Still, there must have been something about her monocle that drove Heather wild despite how much she loved to make fun of it, as whenever Veronica took the time to write in her diary in the other girl’s presence, she had found herself spread on the desk with Heather between her legs.

More than a few entries had gone little beyond ‘Dear Diary,’.

Even Heather’s beloved Porsche had been christened, after Veronica had admittedly teased the blonde to within an inch of her sanity with a wandering hand on her thigh. It was impossible not to giggle at the memory. Right up until a sharp pinch brought her back to the present.

“Quit spacing you weirdo and fuck me.” Heather whined, canting her hips for any kind of pressure against Veronica’s thigh, which currently rested ever so slightly out of reach from where she wanted it most.

Veronica chuckled. “Oh, who’s desperate now?” Though she relented, and pressed forward with her knee a fraction, making Heather gasp. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of hearing that sound, or seeing the almighty Heather Chandler beneath her, with her golden curls spread out around her head like a halo, and half-lidded eyes heady with desire.

Veronica wanted the image burned in her brain forever.

She pressed forward again, with more pressure this time and delighted at the way Heather’s eyes fell closed and her mouth fell open. The way she practically growled when Veronica bit at her neck. And once she wrapped her legs around Veronica’s waist and pinned the length of the brunette’s body against her own, the teasing was over.

They screwed like they would be caught at any second, fast and hard and still half dressed.  

But every time Heather’s body tensed and her back arched, Veronica would bite her lip so hard it almost bled to restrain herself from saying something epically stupid. And when Heather returned the favour, daring to tempt fate enough to disappear beneath the covers and make a temporary home between Veronica’s thighs, the words almost spilled from Veronica’s lips a dozen times over.

I think I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Instead she used a lot more cursing and a lot less romanticism, which she patted herself on the back for in hindsight. Because she was 17 and what did she know? Except that love was definitely not what this was supposed to be.

She already knew Heather was possessive at least after Heather’s reaction to her kissing Mac. There was obviously some sort of exclusivity expected between them. Because like Heather had said, she doesn’t like sharing.

But love?

She wondered if Heather would laugh, if it slipped out one day when the blonde was doing that amazing thing with her tongue. Or would it just end up so awkward Veronica had to assume a new identity and buy a one-way ticket to Mexico to start a new life?

Or maybe Canada, because she sucked at Spanish and she burned easily in the sun.

Either way, she could never come back.

But then… 

But then there were also moments she thought that whatever it was she was feeling, Heather might actually be feeling it too.

Like when she re-emerged from under the covers with her hair a little wild, licking at her lips with a sly grin. She crawled up the bed to kiss her, and when she pulled back, it looked like there was something so much deeper than lust in her eyes.

But it was hard to tell if it was real, or just a reflection. Something Veronica wanted to see.

“Scoot over asshole, you’re taking up the whole bed.”

Veronica rolled her eyes but shimmied over anyway, too busy still trying to catch her breath to properly argue. “This bed is the size of my whole room.

“Because you live in a shoebox. While I’m used to having this whole thing to myself.”

“Well I guess if you don’t want me here-“ A smile tugged at Veronica’s lips when Heather immediately latched her hand around her wrist and pulled her close.

“No! If you dare move while I’m still basking, I’ll kick your ass.”

Their legs were tangled together, and though Veronica was all too painfully aware that Heather’s mom was going to be home soon, neither of them made a move to separate.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to risk that. Jackie Hansen says you have a mean right cross. And I’ve seen those abs, so I know I couldn’t take you.” 

Heather laughed. Genuinely, and Veronica’s heart fluttered. “Guess you better stay put then. 

So she did.

 

* * *

 

 

“Man, did you see Chandler’s legs in that skirt last weekend? If Sawyer hadn’t interrupted, I totally would have been on that.”

“No way dude, she wanted _me_. I can read that _body language_.” Kurt waved his arms in an hourglass motion with a lecherous grin on his face.

Veronica snorted. She wasn’t eavesdropping, she was busy minding her own business and focusing one hundred percent on retrieving her books from her locker. Only, those two morons were as loud and obnoxious as ever, and okay maybe she was eavesdropping a tiny bit.

But it was like a car crash you just couldn’t look away from.

“I’m just saying, it makes sense that the hottest girl in school would want the hottest guy in school.” Ram reasoned, so earnestly Veronica had to refrain from laughing out loud.

“Yeah, which is why she wanted me.”

“Hey!” Ram pushed Kurt lightly in the chest. “She wanted me!”

“No.” Kurt pushed back. “She wanted me!”

“Wait dude, what if… what if she wanted both of us?”

They stared at each other like they were imagining it, and the smiles that broke out on their faces made Veronica want to butt in and tell them that no, she wouldn’t touch either of you with a 10ft stick, because the person Heather really wanted was her.

Partly just to see their reaction. But also partly because there was some smug, possessive part of her that wanted them to know that she was the one screwing the hottest girl in school. That those legs they dreamed about had been wrapped around her the night before. And she’d absolutely rocked her world.

Which was bad, she knew. And made her feel as juvenile as Ram and Kurt, which made her want to take a cold shower just to feel clean again. Or join a convent. It was the only logical course of action.

_Dear diary, sex has turned me into a gross teenage boy. I should have listened to God and waited until marriage._

“Hell yeah dude, punch it in!”

It was only a second or two after they took off down the hallway that JD appeared, leaning coolly against the locker she’d just closed.

“And here I thought romance was dead.” He said, his tone dripping in sarcasm as he watched the footballers leave.

Veronica chuckled. “Yeah, and then you meet those guys, and realise there are still some gentlemen left in the world.”

“Indeed.”

They walked together, though whether JD was walking her to her class or genuinely headed in the same direction as her she wasn’t sure. Either way, she couldn’t complain about the company.

“So, we haven’t hung out in a while.” He said when they came to a stop, leaning against the doorway of the room she needed to be in. “We should rectify that. I’m thinking slushies, after school?”

Veronica was suddenly very aware of Martha and Betty, who were already in their seats and watching them through the open door. They were confident they knew the identity of the mysterious Dread Pirate, as Martha had dubbed her secret paramour. And Veronica didn’t really want to do anything to dissuade them.

Having them think she was dating Jason Dean was much safer than having them know she was actually sleeping with Heather Chandler.

“You know you have a Slushie problem, right?”

He smirked. “I won’t deny that. And I’m taking that as a yes.”

“Okay, sure. You can sate your slushie craving and I’ll get the vastly superior Big Gulp…” she paused for dramatic effect, just to watch his reaction.  

“Big Gulp.” The seriousness of his disgust made her smile. “You wound me.”

“… Then we could maybe hit the mall? I need to pick something up.”

With a nod, his mouth twitched into a charming smile. “Sounds perfecto. Your chariot will be waiting out front.” With a tilt of the head in lieu of a goodbye, he saw her into her classroom before finally leaving to presumably show up late to his own class.

It would be good to hang out with him. She was well over her initial crush, but he was still cool and maybe they could be friends.

She just hoped he wasn’t expecting a date.

The class passed slowly with Martha and Betty’s eyes boring holes in the back of her head. She could practically hear all the questions they wanted to ask through a telepathic link they had created just by thinking loud enough. The first time they’d saw her after the party, they’d had a million and one questions then too.

‘Did everything go okay?’

‘Did you take my advice?’

‘Did you kiss the sexy pirate?’

To which she had answered yes, yes and yes while trying to give as little information as possible. Now she was sure the questions would go something like:

‘Is Jason Dean your secret boyfriend?’

‘How long have you been dating?’

‘Is he a good kisser?’

To which her answer would be to cringe and change the subject.

The last thing she wanted to do was to lie to her friends. But the Heathers historically hadn’t been kind to either of them, and they were already being gracious enough about her friendship with them. They could understand putting up with them for the sake of being popular, for the sake of never getting humiliated or bullied, and for getting invited to all the coolest parties. 

She really didn’t want to test the limits of that graciousness by telling them they were really her friends now, or that she was kind of, sort of falling in love with a Heather too.

Because they didn’t know how sweet McNamara could be, when she wasn’t being mean on command. Or how human Heather Chandler really was, beneath the Rockstar persona. Or how Duke was so smart and her sharp wit made her surprisingly funny.

Maybe, one day, she’d explain all that to her best friends, and they’d laugh about it.

Just not today.

 

* * *

 

 

Filing out of last period, Heather moved with the speed and agility of a jungle cat. The fact that others jumped out of her way as soon as they saw her coming probably helped the speed of her approach, because in a matter of seconds she had caught up to Veronica and tugged her aside.

“Did you see what happened in there?” She asked as if the world was ending.

Veronica had in fact seen what happened, since she was acutely aware of Heather at all times. “You did well on the test. That’s a good thing.”

“No. I _aced_ the test. People are going to think I studied!”

“You did study.”

Heather scowled like Veronica was clearly missing the point, lowering her voice to a hushed growl. “Only because we have sex after.”

“And it’s a reward system that clearly worked. You’re welcome.” The way Heather’s narrowed eyes focused in on her smirk made Veronica painfully aware that had they been alone, she would have been kissed, angrily and thoroughly.

“Some of us care about our reputation, Veronica.”

“Sometimes a little too much, Heather.”

Heather scoffed. “Coming from the girl who was just _dying_ to join the most powerful and exclusive clique at school?”

“Is this the part where you tell me how you ‘ _raised me up from nothing_ ’? You’re so dramatic.” Veronica snorted at the way Heather’s eyes narrowed further at her mimicking her words. “Besides, I only wanted to join for the uniform.”

“Uh huh,” was the disbelieving reply that followed. Folding her arms and cocking her hip, Heather made it clear she was fully aware Veronica was being obstinate for the sole purpose of making her want to kiss her.

And the tight fists her hands curled into made it clear it was working.

Veronica wondered what Heather would do if she took one of those hands and laced her fingers with her own, right there in the hallway. She would have given anything in that moment to be able to do it and not have their world fall down around them.

“Jesus, you really tore out of there!” McNamara announced suddenly, carving through the sexual tension like an unwieldy knife.

Duke arrived with her, eyeing the two of them curiously. “Yeah Heather, going for the land speed record, or was there just something Veronica really needed to know?”

The ‘Shut up, Heather!’ that wanted to escape Chandler’s lips was almost visible, but she swallowed it down with a sigh and ground out, “Maybe you two pillowcases just need to learn to keep up,” instead.

“It’s not my fault Heather has short legs.” Duke explained.

“They’re not short, Heather, they’re normal sized.”

“They’re pretty short.” Veronica teased with a smirk, at the same time Chandler said, “Heather, if you were any smaller the nerds at this school would come to you for Jedi training.”

The laughter was instant, but surprisingly good natured. Until something occurred to Veronica.

“Wait, you’ve seen Star Wars?”

Chandler bristled. “I haven’t been living under a rock, Veronica.”

“Unlike Heather,” Duke gestured to McNamara. “I hear real estate in that swamp is hard to come by.”

The smallest Heather pouted when the three of them laughed again, though she couldn’t resist a smile when Veronica wrapped one arm around her shoulders and said, “C’mon Yoda. Go home, we must.”

“Actually, we’re hitting the mall,” Chandler took her place at the front of the group in a few long strides, which McNamara eyed jealously. Veronica would have laughed again were it not for the sudden nerves she felt.

“Since when?”

“Since I just decided.”

Well this was going to be awkward.

“I can’t go. I kind of… already have plans. I mean, I’ll be there… just not with you.”

The three Heathers regarded her with raised brows. It was the same kind of co-ordinated expression of disapproval that would have had anyone at school wanting to sink through the floor.

Which coincidentally, sounded really great to Veronica right about now.

Chandler’s face was unreadable. “Who are you going with?”

Veronica gulped. Maybe this whole thing had been a really, really bad idea. Because how did she expect it go, telling her… sex pal?... Girlfriend? Was Heather her girlfriend? The thought thrilled her more than she would like to admit. But how do you tell your sort of, maybe girlfriend that you’re hanging out with the guy she knows you had a crush on?

She really should have thought this through.

“JD.”

The temperature dropped around them. McNamara’s eyes widened, looking between Veronica and Chandler with something like panic in her eyes.

Duke on the other hand, who hadn’t gotten the memo, laughed. “Veronica’s got a date with the weirdo trench coat kid?”

“Shut up, Heather!”

The words were so loud passers-by turned their heads. Duke looked almost shell-shocked, and Chandler looked furious. They were words that hadn’t been heard since Brody’s party, since Heather had been making a concerted effort to be a little nicer, where previously they had been an almost daily occurrence. And Duke had seemed lighter because of it.

Now there they were again, venomous and livid. And Duke’s shoulders slumped in tired defeat. “Sorry Heather.”

Chandler didn’t notice. Her attention was solely focused on Veronica, who was wishing she could take her hand and make it distinctly clear that her crush on JD had only lasted a hot minute before dissipating under the strength of her almighty obsession with the girl in question.

But she couldn’t.

So she just said, “it’s not a date,” and hoped her eyes could convey the rest.

Heather’s shoulders relaxed an inch.

“Does he know that?”

Veronica hesitated, and she could feel McNamara cringe beside her. Before she could say anything else, Heather turned to the other Heathers in dismissal. “Let’s motor.”

Then they were gone, and Veronica was left with the distinct impression she might have fucked up a little. But she had already formulated a fool proof, two step plan to redemption:

Step 1: Talk with JD to clear the air and ask if they could just be friends.

Step 2: Talk with Heather, make sure she wasn’t too mad, and bring corn nuts as part of the conciliatory effort.

Results: Probably sex. She hoped.

Heading outside, she saw JD waiting for her, leaning back against his motorbike.

“Greetings and salutations.”

“You’ve used that one already.”

He smirked. “You expect me to abandon my best material?” Swinging his leg over his bike, he motioned for her to seat herself behind him.

Internally, Veronica felt a sudden surge of panic and before she knew it she’d blurted out, “we’re friends right?” She was enacting step 1 of her plan earlier than she’d expected, but there was no way she could climb on the back of his bike without clarifying their intentions. “…Just friends?”

JD’s smirk fell a little.

“If that’s what you want.”

Veronica nodded.

He nodded. If he was hurt, he hid it well. “Well then, friend. Let’s go get a Slushie.”

  

* * *

 

 

Veronica finished her Big Gulp under JD’s disapproving gaze and placed it empty on the table with a satisfied grin.

“So good. And would you look at that, no brain freeze.”

JD frowned. “If you don’t know by now that that’s the best part, then you’re missing the point entirely.”

Veronica chuckled. She’d had a good time, and JD had taken the friendship thing in stride, so she could only count step one as an undisputed success. Step two might be a little harder, but she’d burn that bridge when she came to it.

“So, to the mall?”

Veronica sighed. “Would it be okay if I did that part alone? I kind of have some making up to do to Heather.”

As always, JD’s demeanour changed slightly when she mentioned Heather, or any of her crowd. His eyes held something dark and unreadable.

“I still don’t get what you see in them. You’re so different.” Shaking his head, he shifted his intense gaze to meet her own. “You’re the only person worth anything in this whole damn town. Everyone else, they’re just pretenders. They’re clones of people I’ve seen at every High School in every town I’ve been to. But you? You’re real.”

He shifted closer, dark eyes cutting so deep it was easy to believe he could see into her soul. “You don’t have to play their games.”

It was hard to know how to respond. Somehow an awkward thanks didn’t quite seem to cut it.

“I’m not playing any games.”

“You’re buying into their whole system.”

Veronica wasn’t sure she knew where this was going, but she was almost positive she didn’t like it. “And I should do what instead? Ride a Harley and beat on Ram and Kurt when they’re being dicks?” No wait, that actually sounded really cool.

Though it clearly wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“No.” JD smiled, but it was somehow colder than usual. “You should tear the whole thing down.”

 _Okay_. Whatever that meant. “I think you’ve still got a touch of brain freeze there. I liked the first option better.”

She laughed awkwardly, and after half a second the intense moment was over. JD blinked, and shrugged, finally finishing his Slushie with one last sip. “Well, you do look good on a motorbike.” He stood. “C’mon, I’ll drop you off.”

She thought on his words the whole way there, about tearing down the system. And the way he’d said them, like an idle joke but with something deeper underneath that she didn’t even know how to begin to unravel.

When they pulled up at the mall, he smiled his usual disarming smile and the person she had seen before had vanished completely. In his place was JD, the trench coat wearing badass with a Slushie addiction. Her friend. Which she was grateful for, since she wasn’t sure she liked the other guy all that much.

He seemed dangerous.

“You sure you don’t want me to come along for backup?”

“Thanks, but don’t worry, I can handle Heather.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “If you say so. See you ‘round, Sawyer.” He tilted his head in goodbye, then pulled away, looking every bit like the coolest guy in Ohio. Which he maybe was for all she knew.

Though that probably said more about Ohio than it did about JD.

Turning on her heel, Veronica made her way inside with the sole purpose of completing step 2 of her two-step plan. Which first meant picking up the thing she’d needed to come to the mall for in the first place: Heather’s birthday present.

She was nervous even just buying it. She couldn’t even imagine how terrified she’d be when giving it to Heather. Because what if she laughed?

What if she didn’t feel the same?

Suddenly her plan to run away to Canada was looking more tempting by the second.

Though she didn’t have long to consider it, since she found Heather quite quickly where she expected to. Their ‘if we separate we’ll meet back here’ spot, where Heather was sat alone and apparently lost in thought, if the way she took no note of Veronica sitting next to her gave any indication.

“Where did you lose Heathers Green and Yellow?”

Heather startled, finally turning to face her with a surprised expression. “They made excuses to go find me birthday gifts.” For half a second her lips twitched into a smile, before she seemed to remember something and frowned. “Where’s your boy toy?”

“Are you actually jealous of Jason Dean?” 

Affronted, Heather’s mouth dropped open. “Jealous? Of that John Bender wannabe? And why would I be jealous, Ronnie?”

It was a dare.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

She dared back.

They were on the edge of something, so close to crossing the Rubicon that Veronica considered giving her the birthday present right then.

But she wanted it to be special.

It would wait.

“You know he’s just a friend, right?”

Heather sighed. Her shoulders sank like she had the weight of the world weighing on them. “I believe you. If you’re screwing me you’re not gonna suddenly downgrade to the poor man's answer to Judd Nelson. But he likes you. And your little geek friends think he’s your boyfriend, and…”

“And it makes you want to leave bite marks on my neck where everyone can see them?” Veronica guessed.

A nod. “And I want everyone to know it was my teeth that made them.” Heather’s voice had dropped an octave, her eyes hungry. Veronica wet her lips and tried her best to remember they were in a public place.

“I know the feeling.”

Step two of the plan was complete, because Veronica could tell from the way Heather was biting her lip that they were heading to the results stage at lightning speed. And she hadn’t even needed the corn nuts after all.

Suddenly, Heather grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet and along behind her. They entered a store but Veronica didn’t get chance to see which one. They passed rack after rack of clothes until they reached the fitting rooms, and what Veronica witnessed there may as well have been sorcery.

An assistant stopped them, a broad smile on her face as she gave the whole ‘can I help you at all’ spiel. She was unprepared for Heather Chandler. Veronica pitied her. By the time Heather had finished her tirade, the woman had raced off to find the latest skirt and matching heels from a designer Veronica had never heard of wearing an expression of abject panic.

The second she was gone, Veronica was pulled into one of the fitting room booths while Heather pulled the curtain closed behind them.

Electricity flowed from Heather’s lips to Veronica’s, and into her veins where it charged her whole body with static. She could feel the shocks on her skin with every touch.

“What if she comes back?” Veronica managed to mumble when Heather pushed her against the back wall and began working at the buttons of her shirt.

“She won’t.” Heather smirked, ripping open the shirt. “She’s looking for something that doesn’t exist.”

Veronica was dating an evil genius.

Teeth lightly grazed across her neck, as a hand slid its way up her outer thigh. Heather wanted to mark her like she’d said, where everyone could see. Veronica wanted her to.

But she couldn’t, and they both knew it.

Instead, she lowered her mouth and placed kisses along her collarbone. All the while, her hand crept to her inner thigh, and then higher, until Veronica was biting her lip to keep herself quiet.

Heather did mark her, in the end. Everywhere but her neck. And no-one could know she was sleeping with Heather Chandler, but she would be reminded every time she undressed in front of the mirror at night. Heather would feel it in the scratches on her back.

It was something just for them.

And for now, it would have to be enough.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't begin to apologise enough for how long it's taken me to update, hope some of you are still with me! And thank you so much for all your kind words, they really do mean the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to message me on tumblr (http://girl-with-the-dragon-age-tattoo.tumblr.com/) and bitch about these losers with me.


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